Freddierella
by Butterfree
Summary: AU. His parents were dead. He was always called ugly by his brothers. He was living a life with people who constantly berated and insulted him. He was also Freddie Benson. And she, was Sam Puckett, practically a princess. Seddie. Modern-Day Cinderella
1. Broken Arm

_It was ironic, he would chuckle half-heartedly. _

_His mother always worried about him wherever he went, she nagged him day and night when she saw him doing anything more dangerous than playing bingo, she always told him to brush his teeth with extra-strengthening authentic mint paste for exactly 6 minutes and 39 seconds. Twice. She would no doubt jump in front of a car just to keep him from being splashed by that mud filled with 'so many disease-ridden germs!' In fact, in terms of keeping an eye out for his health, she would probably win a provincial plaque to hang up on the wall along with all his baby pictures._

_But, she didn't listen to him. And look where it got them both now. She would never be around to give him lectures about the dangers of food coloring, or force him to her mother-son quilting clubs again. And as far as him? He was ten years old and already filled with more bitter emotion than anyone twice his age would start worrying about. He was living a life with people who constantly berated and insulted him. But, he was also Freddie Benson. He was already smart enough then to know what something like that could do to a person, so he got over it._

_At least, he hoped._

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"Hey, did you hear the news?" A slightly chubby boy raised his eyebrow to his friend beside him, who had his full attention at his chemistry textbook. Both of them were seated near the corner of the school cafeteria, ignoring the snickers from some of the more popular kids around them.

"News?" Freddie lowered his book for the first time the whole lunch, revealing his dark black colored eyes hidden under thick glasses. Inwardly, he rolled them when he heard a girl walking beside him turn away in disgust.

"Wow, where've you been, man?" his grin only grew wider as Freddie only gave him a deeper look of confusion. "You ever heard of iCarly before?"

"Yeah, everyone has. What about them?"

"Those two girls, Carly and Sam; super hot and super rich…right?" Again, Gibby wiggled his eyebrow suggestively. At his friend's silence, he took it as a cue to continue. "Well, Carly's older brother found a permanent job as a Creative Sculpturer here in Seattle, so they're moving here. And guess _which_ school's gonna have two new transfer students?"

"I don't know, Gibby. Who?" Freddie asked with an amused smirk on his face.

"US! That's who!" At this proclamation, Gibby proceeded to take off his shirt and jump on the table they were at, only to be stopped by Ms. Briggs' booming voice.

"GIBBY! Absolutely NO stripping in this cafe, do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, m'am."

"GOOD!"

The two watched as Ms. Briggs stormed away from them, stepped on a passing kid's shoelace, thereby tripping him and causing his lunch to splatter over another kid, and continued out of the room like nothing happened. Once they were sure she was out of seeing range, Gibby and Freddie both threw looks of distaste at each other.

"Man, what is up with her?"

Freddie sighed. "It's just how she is, I guess. We can't always understand the crazy."

"You're one to talk, Benson." At the realization that someone had heard their short conversation, they both looked up to see the unwanted sight of four taller boys standing in front of their table, one of which was smirking at them. For the second time, Freddie sighed.

"What do you want, Jonah? Don't you ruin my life enough at home?"

"Hey, what's wrong with wanting to come talk to my little step-brother at school?" Jonah looked at the ceiling innocently, while two of the other guys behind him laughed. The third one stayed silent, but none of them noticed. As Freddie only chose to respond to this by turning his attention back to his textbook, and Gibby settled for silently glaring at them, his anger flared. Seeing something silver stick out of Freddie's bag, he smirked and swiftly reached a hand out to grab it away from him, staring curiously at what it was.

After a moment, a smile reappeared on Jonah's face. "A portable pearpad?"

Freddie abruptly stood, but tried remaining calm. "Jonah, give that back. Please."

Seeing his brother's reaction, his smile only grew wider. "Since when were you allowed to have one of these, anyway? Since I recalled, you-"

"Hey, just leave Freddie alone, would you?" Gibby stood as well, throwing his shirt off without hesitation seeing as Ms. Briggs had left. Jiggling his stomach slightly, he made his way beside Freddie. "Or you'll have to face GIBB-BEH!"

"Gibby, it's okay. I'll handle this myself." Freddie raised an arm to stop his friend, before turning back to his brother. "I'm just asking you, Jonah, to please give it back."

Jonah only continued eying the boy in front of him with a smirk. From head to toe, everything about him screamed out 'ugly' and 'nerdy', and that fact only succeeded in making him happier. Beginning from Freddie's head, his brown hair was an unfiled mess, the strands which weren't stuck to his forehead with gel went every which way to resemble somewhat of a small afro. His dark black eyes were empty and contained no attractive spark which usually sent girls fainting, if they even _could_ even get a chance to see them under those cartoon-like glasses. It only seemed to get worse as his eyes trailed down. The sweater and pants he wore were at least twice his size, hiding all his limbs under an overwhelming layer of clothing.

It was disgusting, but that wasn't his problem. "And what makes you think you have a right to get it back?"

"Because I'm asking you nicely." Freddie replied, completely serious, which only sent the boys behind Jonah and everyone within hearing distance into snickers. "You only pick on me so much because you hate not being the most popular around here," he added in under his breath, which went unnoticed by everyone except one person.

"What was that, little bro?" In a second, Jonah was only inches from him, lifting the slightly shorter boy up by his collar. Automatically, his other hand which held onto the pearpad carelessly was at his throat, throwing the device onto the floor as it crashed into several pieces. Freddie could only wear a look of horror on his face, not at the threat of his brother, or the death of his computer, but that the machine was probably the only thing he had lef-

_WHAM!_

In an instance, darkness overcame him.

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He woke up on the floor of the cafeteria an hour later, blood dripping down the side of his mouth and onto the floor. He looked at the small red puddle, noticing drops surrounding it, probably from before Jonah had dropped him on the ground. '_Wow, what a mess I made…_' was all that processed through his mind as he continued recounting the events of what happened in his head.

Gibby was crouching next to him. "Hey man…you okay?"

Freddie only nodded slightly without removing his face from the floor. Looking up, it took another moment for him to realize that they were the only ones left in the room. Everyone, the students, the teachers, the custodians, and even the cafeteria ladies, had all gone to class, apparently. As if nothing happened.

A moment of silence ensued, only filled with the sounds of Gibby lifting himself off the floor to begin picking up the pieces of Freddie's destroyed pearpad. Suddenly, he spoke:

"That was pretty awesome back there, you know." He kept his back to him.

"Huh?" Freddie raised an eyebrow as he slowly dragged himself into a chair. "What do you mean?"

"Well, normally when Jonah or Pete or anyone else starts picking on you, you sort of have this '_let's ignore them_' policy. You just sort of do whatever they want. But, I can see it you know."

His look of confusion only increased, "see what?"

"You want to one-up them, to say something so badly, kind of like I have the urge to take off my shirt all the time." Normally, Freddie would've chuckled at his friend, but he didn't. Instead, he turned his vision to the ground, finding that small puddle of blood interesting once more. "But hey, that's the real Freddie Benson, isn't it?"

The chubbier boy, who now had his shirt back on, finally turned around to face him. "But you know what?"

A pause and no answer.

"This school is messed up." Freddie looked up at this, and only then did he notice a swollen bruise resting beneath Gibby's eye. He frowned.

"Gibby, you didn't have to-"

"But thanks for trying, Freddie." With that, he walked over to him and placed whatever pieces of the pearpad he could find into his hands, and started making his way to class.

As soon as he was gone, Freddie delicately rested the pieces onto the table, calmly walked to the closest wall, and effectively punched it with everything he had.

Freddie Benson normally wasn't a violent person, and he didn't care if he was hurt by Jonah; a few punches, a kick or two, they were all normal. They were just injuries and that was it. He still had one or two bruises to prove for it. They healed eventually. His pearpad, if it was any old pearpad, could be fixed. Knowing his tech-geek knowledge, it probably wouldn't take much more than a week.

But, it wasn't just a pearpad, and neither was a punch to the eye for Gibby just any old injury. Freddie could only sigh, resting his back on the same wall he pummeled, and slide down. His brothers always hid behind a façade of violence because it just seemed the most comfortable for them and gained them some popularity, even at the expense of others. Not only so, but they dragged him down along with them and enjoyed doing it. He didn't want to sink to their level.

'_But somehow, I feel that I already have._'

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"You know, Carl's, it's just the first day of school." Sam looked at her friend, her elbows resting on the railing of the balcony to the room. Sam Puckett was clearly bored; sure, being rich was fun for once in a while, but in the end when your stomach's full, you're too lazy to go out, and the gold lining the ceilings became more of a nuisance than inspirement, it was boring.

"Yes, Sam, it _is_ just the first day of school…" Carly calmly replied, before grabbing her best friend by the shoulders. "The first day of school _for_ the girls who star in the most popular webcast of all time and must make a good first impression for!"

"Yeah, bu-" Sam started.

"Oh my gosh! What if I slip on something and fall right on my face in front of everyone!"

"Well you could-"

"Does my hair look okay? Or is it too puffy? You can't have puffy hair on the first day of school!"

"Carly…" She sighed, stuffing a handful of chips into her mouth.

"Sam! Don't tell me you're wearing that! I mean, it looks nice and all, but you have to have special clothes encasing your body if you want to-"

"Carly!" Effectively spewing some crumbs of those chips into Carly's general direction, Sam spoke up while pointing at her watch. "It's time to go, you know."

"Oh no! We can_ not _be late! Not today!" Grabbing Sam by the wrist, Carly ran outside the room and down the long staircase which led to the car waiting outside. Of course, they could've gotten a limo, but Carly reasoned that no one would want to approach girls if they thought they were showing off.

Before Sam could completely comprehend what was happening, they were already on their way to the small building. It really confused her, why Spencer had decided to enroll them into a normal high school. All their lives, she and Carly had either been attending high-class facilities for classes, or were tutored by a well-known professor. Not that she paid any attention to those classes, but this was all fine for her as long as she could eat as much bacon as she wanted.

But of course, that was when Carly's strict grandfather came in. He ranted on and on about how 'worried' he was for Carly. He told them that simply doing iCarly wasn't enough, that it wasn't a job that they could do forever and still expect to keep living with as much money as she did.

Eventually, the old man finally came out with the point of his whole chizzing visit. Apparently, it wasn't deemed appropriate if the ladies of the house remained without a career plan and unengaged after high school. Particularly, if Sam didn't fill out at least one of those requirements by graduation, she and her mother would not be allowed to live with them anymore; not that grandpa Shay told her granddaughter the last part.

Pfft, what kind of rule is that?

Not that Sam wasn't attractive; no, quite the opposite. She wouldn't have any trouble finding a boyfriend if she wanted. Heck, all she had to do was look at one of those upper class boys and ask them sweetly, and he'd say yes in a heartbeat. But the problem was, none of them ever _stayed_ as her boyfriend. Sure, she held them by the collar and pushed them against walls once in a while when she got mad, she always made them pay for her lunches despite being rich, and one time…just _one_ time, pushed one of them off a tree, but a lot of them managed to make it through. The funny thing was though, after all of that, _she_ would be the one to dump them. She didn't know why completely, but having boyfriends never worked out for her.

But hey, enough of that cheesy stuff about her love life. Anyway, that was when Carly's crazy older brother just had to step in. Since they were already being tutored at home, he suggested that they go to a normal school concerning the un-married thing. He told Carly's grandpa that maybe they would find someone if they tried living as "normal teenagers", before proceeding to add a ketchup pack to his sculpture of William Shakespeare made out of condiments.

So now, here she was. Sitting in a normal SUV Van with her best friend nervously yet excitedly chatting at her side, and their usual formally-dressed driver uncomfortably adjusting his casual clothing. Oh yeah, and if she didn't find a steady and presentable boyfriend by the end of next year, she would be kicked out of the house. There was that little gem of a fact too.

Stopping in front of the school's front doors, the two girls stepped out; one gaping happily at the new sight, while the other just looked at the building blankly. Hey, it's not like Sam's never seen an average high school before. Before moving in with Carly…but, she didn't feel like thinking about that right now.

After about 5 seconds, the first kid turned around to look at them, gaping the same way Carly was at the school just moments before. Then, it was a domino effect, more and more students stopped to stare at them. Some were amazed to see the oh so famous iCarly girls, some were drooling, and others even took out their cell phones to take a picture of the sight.

Scoffing, Sam glared at them. "Yeah yeah, show's over! We transferred to this dump of a school and everyone's amazed. Now move along!"

Some obeyed but most stayed and laughed at the girl they were used to laughing at on screen. Sam only groaned, while Carly put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

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"Hey, sorry about yesterday." Was the first thing Freddie heard when he reached his locker the next morning. After finally trudging his way to class with a newly cleaned-lip last afternoon, the teacher had given him a detention, not bothering to ask about the sudden swollen lump on his jaw. He went through the school day normally, and when it was time to return home, he simply walked to Bushwell Plaza just as he always had. Luckily, when he opened the apartment door, no one was home. And no one came home until really late at night, he suspected, as neither Jonah nor Pete appeared before him until this morning.

Freddie gave the other teen a questioning look, raising an eyebrow. He recognized this guy as one of the boys who was with Jonah the other day.

"Look, you can talk to me you know. I don't bite." At that, he just shrugged and resumed picking at his lock, the bag hanging from his shoulders wrapped tightly around him. "You're not much of a talker I guess, but I don't blame you. After what Jonah did yesterday and all that."

"It's not just that." Finally, Freddie spoke.

"Oh?"

"It's a part of who he is…to be like that, I mean."

"So, I'm guessing this isn't the first time?"

Freddie shook his head slowly, finally getting his locker open and grabbing one of his notebooks from it. It was awkward, to say the least. No one ever really willingly talked to him like this, other than maybe Gibby. Even the other nerds found him a bit creepy to be around most of the time.

"About your pearpad," the other boy shook his head as well, slight guilt coming to his eyes, "I know you don't need it, but do you want some help fixing it?"

Seeing the strange look that came on Freddie's face, he simply laughed. "I'm a bit of a tech-geek too myself."

"B-But you're one of Jonah's group."

"Yeah," he shrugged, "so don't tell anyone, okay?"

"Wait. Why are you telling me this?" Freddie finally asked him, suspicious and slightly bewildered.

"I don't know, you seem like someone that I can trust."

"Oh."

"The name's Brad, how about you? Jonah just calls you 'Benson' all the time since he's a bit mad that you kept your last name, so I never really caught your-"

"Freddie." He interrupted.

"Huh?"

"My name is Freddie. Freddie Benson." And for the first time, Freddie smiled at him; a genuine smile. "Nice to meet you."

Brad shot a friendly smile back, holding his hand out which Freddie willingly took. The two exchanged a shoulder-bump, before letting go as the both of them laughed slightly. "You're pretty cool, Freddie. I don't understand why everyone at this school…you know."

"Yeah, I guess…"

"This one guy told me that you ate diced bats for lunch while listening to study tapes just so you could hear the 'undertones' of the speaker or something like that."

Freddie made a face. "Are you serious?"

Brad laughed, making a face as well. "Yeah, but people are pretty crazy like that."

"You're telling me."

Silence engulfed the two, as Freddie made a move to stuff his needed books in his bag, and Brad began playing with the headphones of his mp3 player. After some more shuffling, the former of the two closed his locker shut and turned back to him. "So, I guess I'll see you then."

"Yeah. See ya, '_Benson_'." Brad made an attempt to imitate Jonah's voice when he uttered the last word. Freddie only chuckled, looking at the ground and shaking his head with a smile. "Bye, and don't worry about what happened yesterday."

"You sure?"

"Positive." And with that, Freddie left Brad in the hallway, making his way to the staircase. For the first time since the incident, he felt alright. No emotions of guilt for getting his friend beaten up, no urges to kick something down ten blocks in order to subside his anger, almost nothing.

Almost.

But hey, he can't be greedy and ask for everything. It was nice to be regarded by someone as an actual person, and not just the freaky nerd of the school who could assemble a high-tech cam recorder system in less than an hour. Well yes, he probably could do that…but still, that wasn't all there was to him. Gibby talked to him, but Freddie couldn't help but feel somewhat guilty if he went up to Gibby and just started a chat to make himself feel better. It didn't work that way.

Lost in his thoughts, Freddie didn't notice when he accidentally tripped over a ledge on the floor, sending him forwards with a sudden acceleration. He took another step to avoid falling, only to crash into something, or someone, else and send the both of them to the ground anyway.

"H-HEY! What the CHIZ!" the other person yelled as Freddie snapped his eyes open. In all the commotion, he had closed them in fear. When he did, he found himself staring at the side of the face of a blonde-haired girl. A small blonde-haired girl with a slender form, curly hair, and blue eyes. Possibly the bluest eyes he had ever seen…

Freddie mentally slapped himself, effectively bringing his body back to reality and jumping off of her before she had the chance to push him off. "I-I'm sorry…" he stated with concern and his hands held out in case she was hurt, only to feel himself lifted by the collar for the second time in two days.

In front of him and who had his throat in their hands, was not the blonde-haired girl anymore, but the much larger figure of Pete. Immediately, fear filled him at the sight of his second step-brother glaring at him with eyes that clearly showed that he was just recovering from a hangover. Figures, Freddie thought despite himself. "Never, and I mean never, touch Samantha Puckett like that again." He breathed out, throwing Freddie to the floor harshly. Sam sat there, watching the scene with a blank expression on her face.

"Pete! I swear I wasn't going to-" was all he managed to yell out before he felt the blow of a hard kick to his stomach. He brought his hands to the area where he was kicked, losing another breath of air when he felt a second shot on his knee. Feeling tears of pain threatening to fall from his eyes, Freddie attempted to crawl away, but was trapped by the grip of Pete's hand on the back of his sweater. Why wasn't anyone doing anything? He looked around desperately, realizing that Pete, the girl, and him were the only ones occupying the hall.

It nerved Pete how his brother was still conscious. With each time he beated on him, it seemed to get harder and harder to bring him to submission. Freddie knew that, and that his brother was going to do much worse than throw a few kicks, but was stopped when they both heard a yell from the girl behind them. "Hey, Pete! Having some trouble beating up a little nub like him?"

Pete instantly turned around, looking at her in slight disbelief. "Don't worry about it, Samantha. I'll take care of him for ever touching you like that!"

Sam seethed slightly. She hated being called Samantha. "Oh come on. I've seen better moves from an elephant on a mouse. Let me show you how it's _really_ done."

Before either of them knew what was going on, Sam grabbed Freddie by the collar, lifting him up and away from Pete. Then, she rested her hands on the front of his neck in a strange way so the other boy did not see. Almost automatically, Freddie felt himself getting sleepy. Just as his body slumped to the realm of unconsciousness, she threw him on the ground roughly, yet not enough to wake him up.

Pete's eyes widened, "h-how did you do that?"

Sam shrugged, "Mama knows her moves."

The boy made a move to laugh, shaking his head. "You're Samantha Puckett alright, and you're no fake from what I've seen on the show. But hey, that's why I lo-"

"Yeah…listen, I'm going to go to the bathroom for a second. All that yahoo punch, you know."

"Sure thing, Samantha." He smiled innocently at her, void of any violent actions he had displayed to his brother just moments before. His eyes following her as she walked away, he finally turned around in order to stare at the unconscious body on the floor. He had to admit, he had done quite a number on Benson this time. But hey, normally when he kicked or punched him, it was for something like throwing a rude comment, or spilling soda on his iPod. This time, it was Samantha Puckett. Falling on her was a much more unforgiveable crime than any of that stu-

_BOOM!_

Before Pete could tell what was going on, the impact of his chest to the window in front of him sent sharp pain throughout his body. What-Was he pushed by somethi-

_SQUEAK!_

The feeling of a hand forcing his face against the glass harshly and sliding his whole figure against it grazed over him. Then, with his face still up against the glass, he felt his body being lifted up in a strange position so his arm was bending backwards. Another smack against the window, a strange crack resonating from his arm, and he found himself unconscious.

Dropping his body to the floor, Sam shrugged.

"He had it coming."

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**Well, there's the first chapter…hope you guys liked the story so far!**

**And yes, I am well aware that Freddie's eye color is brown and not black. But, I have a good reason for why they're black late on. You know, if this story continues past chapter 1.**


	2. Orange Smoothie

Once more, blood was acquainted with the bottom corner of his lip as he stared at himself in the mirror. That dumb spot in the pit of his stomach refused to subside spilling out the liquid through his throat and out to the edge of his mouth all through class. Like a can of fizzled pop.

No one seemed to notice. They were probably all used to it. Freddie, showing up with a bruised arm, or a black eye, just as the bell rang. He would hold a blank expression, yet the funny thing was his brain was always still fully functional and ready to learn at the same time. Maybe that's what made him a nerd.

'_Good, I didn't want them to notice._' He gave himself a loop-sided smile as if all was right with the world.

He had paid no attention to it the whole day, but his hair was beginning to smooth out again, losing that spiked quality that everyone knew him as having. Unlike what most people thought, his hair wasn't naturally puffed-out and unruly. On the contrary, its ability to start deflating back into a normal shape within hours was quite a worthy opponent to the copious amounts of hair gel he always applied to it in a futile attempt to change it. By the end of the day, his mini-afro always looked about an inch or two smaller in radius.

The slightly changed sight in front of him should've made him happy, really. But instead, he threw a glare at the image in the mirror before stomping out the bathroom. He didn't feel like returning home. He had heard what had happened to Pete shortly after he woke up and found him sleeping on the floor. His arm was bent in a strange curve behind his back, and it didn't take a tech-geek to realize that the thing was probably broken.

But still, the guy had his other good hand and Jonah waiting back at their apartment. Not that either of them scared him much, but the two new bruises he had on his stomach added to the scrap on his knee were enough for him for a day or two.

Freddie opened the school doors to the outside. Everyone else had gone home, or left to some gathering, seeing as the sun was already beginning to set. Doing a double take on the yard in front of him, he made his way across the road. He only had one destination in mind, and it never changed. His father, his _real _father, used to take him there as a toddler. Even now, he never stopped going.

But, it wasn't like Freddie was in a rush either. So he took his time trending through the sidewalk. It was all part of his plan. It first happened in sixth grade, when Pete had thrown his favorite pencil case into the fireplace, yelling and kicking painful blows at him for being so nerdy to be attached to the thing. Out of pure fear that he would destroy any of his other personal belongings, he upped, grabbed his things, and tried his best to avoid going home. He always stayed after school for as long as possible when he didn't feel like dealing with his brothers. Then, when that was over, he would make his way to the park until night finally came. By the time late evening rolled around, he would find himself sleeping silently in the fire escape attached to their apartment floor.

It was kind of funny, thinking back on it. I mean really, a pencil case? But he never regretted doing it. That first time he attempted the feat was probably what kept him happy and partially sane a lot of the time. Freddie chuckled to himself and continued on his way.

Suddenly, he heard a strange crunch and a small bump under his shoe. He looked down, and found that it was a long skinny stick, about a meter in length, which caused the disturbance. Hey, he guessed he should've count his lucky stars he didn't trip on it. Freddie bent down, picking up the object in his hands and feeling its unusual smoothness under his finger tips. Then, a strange thing happened. A smirk came to his features, he held the stick up at the end of his grip, and at the presence of a leaf falling from the corner of his vision, he swiftly turned while slashing his arm back down. With no sign of falter, the leaf was cut perfectly in two.

At that, his smirk faded into an all out grin. "Yup, I still got it."

Not that he would tell anyone, but fencing had become an obsessive hobby of his ever since he turned six. He never understood why his lunatic mother was so against it, but she never managed to convince him to stop. Even now, he would occasionally find himself at the gym, working with that sword which he so rarely touched nowadays. It was a bit saddening to admit, but he missed it.

A few more leaves rushed past him as he abandoned his stick to the ground once more. While doing so, he heard voices not so distant from him. Turning around in curiosity, he noticed a small boy being held down against the pavement by the foot of an older kid, one who was almost as old as him, yet muscular all the same.

"Give that back, Roger!" The boy waved his hands frantically, trying to reach for a notebook that the one in question was holding over his head.

"What's that? Aren't you going to ask me to get off of you first?"

"No! I don't care! Just give it back and you can stomp on me as much as you want! Meanie!"

He glared down at him, "what's the deal with you, Alex? Like boys keeping diaries is even _normal_."

At hearing this, the smaller kid struggled even more, opening his mouth and bringing his teeth down on the flesh pushing his chest as hard as he could. That did the trick, as the teen was off of the boy in an instant, dropping the diary to the ground and holding his leg in agony. "WHAT? Why you-"

"Hey." Freddie walked up to them just as quickly, observing the two. Alex seemed to ignore him, settling for desperately clutching onto his diary with as much force as he could.

At a closer range, it only occurred to him now just how big and muscular Roger was; his arm already frozen in place in a motion to punch the littler boy. Figures.

"What do you want, nerd face?" Roger turned his attention to him, sneering.

"Leave him alone."

"And why would I do that?" He took a step closer to Freddie, his fists balled but no longer looking at Alex as the target. Freddie took a step back, looking from right to left.

"Uh…because it's the right thing to do?" He tried, a smile on his face.

"And you think I care?"

"Didn't think so, obviously."

"And what's that supposed to mean?" taking his comment to mind, Roger closed the distance between them even more.

"I don't know _what_ about that you'd take so offensively." Freddie rolled his eyes at him, shrugging. "I wouldn't be any more shocked if you spat on puppies in your spare time."

That was all it took. In a moment, the slightly shorter teen in front of him lashed out, his right fist proceeding to maul the brown-haired boy in front of him. But instead of hand colliding with face, Freddie found that his years as a fencer paid off. On instinct, he took a swift step back, effectively dodging whatever Roger was going to do to him, and watching as the muscular boy tripped on air and fell face first on the ground.

Slightly shocked yet smiling, Freddie simply held his leg out on top of the boy's back, holding him down on the pavement in a similar fashion as he had just moments before. Roger struggled with all his strength, but it was clear that his foot was not going to budge.

"L-Let go of me!" He scoffed up at him.

"Now look at Alex." Freddie said.

"What?"

"Look at him." He said again, more firmly this time. Shooting one last glare at him, Roger hesitantly complied; turning his face to see Alex's shocked and scared expression at the scene unfolding before him. "Good, now swear that you'll never bother him again."

"Ha! Like dingo I wi-"

"Just do it."

There was a pause, and then a scowl. "Look, I don't care how long you keep me like this, nerd face." He sneered, "eventually, we'll all have to go home and your mama's gonna be looking for you. I'll stay here a month before I ever have to say something like that to _him_."

Sighing, Freddie looked up at Alex. Seeing the fear still embedded in the small boy's eyes, he gave him a friendly smile. "Alex, was it?"

He nodded, looking unsure this time.

"Hey, this may not be the last time you're picked on. But…don't let this wiener tell you what to do, okay? You're plenty normal." Freddie paused, seeing as the other boy's mouth was forming an 'o' shape at him now. He chuckled under his breath, his voice lowering to a content whisper, "he's not worth it. And I think our little 'fight' sort of proved it."

Silence ensued the both of them, only interrupted by Roger's occasional grunting and yelling at Freddie to let him go. After what felt like hours of waiting, Alex's mouth formed into possibly the most sunshine-filled grin Freddie had ever seen.

"THANK YOU, mister!" He yelled, waving at Freddie before running off. As soon as he was out of sight, Freddie finally lifted his leg off of Roger, an amused smirk on his face as the other boy seemed to have not noticed their whole exchange. Roger glared at him once more.

"You're gonna pay for that, you little dork-"

"Yeah, I heard you the first time." Thinking about it a second, Freddie looked back at him. "It's all I've been hearing my whole life. It gets a bit stale after the first five hundred, but if it makes people like you feel better…" Without sparing another glance at him, Freddie turned away and continued his trek down the street.

When the sun was setting, it felt like the day had ended, and yet to him, it was like everything was just beginning. Freddie looked ahead, realizing that his little adventure had not occurred very far from his favorite restaurant, the Groovy Smoothie. He shrugged, thinking he deserved it, before making his way to the door and pushing it open. The small 'ding' was heard, and the man behind the counter looked up and threw him a smile.

"Yo, Freddie. You wanna buy a hot dog? I'll throw in some mustard; 2 dollars." T-Bo addressed him while holding one in a pair of thongs.

"No thanks, T-Bo. I think I'll just have a smoothie. The regular." Freddie politely waved him off, taking in the quiet atmosphere of the place after the sun had set and everyone had left.

"You sure? These things are made out of 100% beef."

At Freddie shaking his head again, T-Bo shrugged and proceeded to mix his smoothie instead. While waiting, Freddie casually brought himself fully into the restaurant, letting that feeling of insurance wash over him. Yup, that's why he loved this place once night rolled around. It was quiet, and no one other than a few last-minute customers ran in, whether it was for a late night snack or a cute little cupcake for their girlfriend's birthday the next day. For some reason, teenagers just really didn't come here as much in the evening. Without watching his path, Freddie took a seat in the table nearest to him.

"Um, hello." A girl's voice rung in his ears.

By habit, Freddie jumped up from his chair in shock, finding himself staring at the brown eyes of a tall brunette with a smile on her face and a perky aura about her. He raised an eyebrow, before recognition finally washed over him and he realized just _who_ it was.

_Oh, fudge doodles._ It was none other than the gaze of Carly Shay.

In a blink of an eye, Freddie grabbed his bag and hastily made his way to the exit, completely forgetting about his smoothie. And he almost made it too, if he didn't bump right into another person who happened to open the door from the outside at exactly the same time. Well no, they didn't literally bump into each other, but it sure felt like that to him.

"Oh," the person said, "it's just you." Before pushing him aside and making her way in.

"Sam! I was waiting here for you for half an hour! Where were you?" Carly stood up, lecturing the girl like a mother to her 3-year old daughter.

"Ah, keep your cool, Shay. I'm only what? 2 minutes late?"

"Try 20 minutes."

"Whatev's." She shrugged. At this, Carly let out a frustrated groan, but still retained an amused smile on her face. Freddie watched. It felt like he was in a theatre, watching a movie playing its course and having no part of it. That was why, when Carly suddenly turned her attention back to him, he completely forgot about running away.

"Hey, sorry about my friend here. She's a little…abrasive."

He shrugged back at her with a shy smile, not saying anything. Most people would've taken that as him saying it was alright and would just leave him alone from that point on, but not these people.

"Don't bother apologizing to that guy, Carly. I mean, he's just a nubby little nerd." Sam eyed him.

"Sam!"

"It's true."

"Well, _yes_," Carly whispered to her in an attempt to keep Freddie from hearing, even though he so obviously did. "But that doesn't mean we have to be so mean to him."

"Hey, Freddie!" T-Bo yelled from across the counter, "your Smoothie's ready!"

"So," Sam looked at him once more, this time with a raised brow, "your name's _Freddie_?"

He nodded. "What kind of name is that?"

"Sam!" Carly was losing her patience.

"What?" She raised her arms up in pure confusion.

Carly rolled her eyes, and turned her attention back to Freddie. "I'm sorry. And to make up for my friend's behavior," she nudged her, "do you want us to treat you to something?"

"WHAT?" Sam yelled, and Freddie's eyes widened.

"Yes. And there will be no complaining." The brunette crossed her arms. "Or else someone's fridge will not have a fresh supply of pre-cooked gravy beef tomorrow morning when someone else comes over for breakfast."

With no hesitation, Sam groaned. "Ugh, fine."

"Good-"

"No. It's okay." At last, Freddie found the courage to speak. The two turned to him, noticing how sincere he was to decline the offer. He smiled and shrugged, "I have to get going anyway, and I don't want to trouble you two." With that, he attempted for the second time that night to walk out the door. Yeah right, a nerd like him hanging out with Carly and Sam?

"J-Just wait a chizzing second!" With a sudden burst of bewilderment and anger, Sam sped walked to him and held him back by a rough tug on his shirt. "I don't like that little 'don't talk to them' attitude you're giving off! And no one, and I repeat _no one_, especially a nerd like you no less, rejects an offer from us!"

"A-And why can't I?" Freddie squeaked.

"Because I'm Sam Puckett and she's Carly Shay! The day a guy refuses to hang out with us is when T-Bo over here gets a Master's Degree for being a Lawyer!"

Freddie struggled himself away from Sam's grip, giving her an exasperated look. He didn't know why, but something about how fiery her blue eyes shot daggers at him, how aggressive, self-centered, and utterly aggravating this girl was that made him want to fight back. More than he wanted to with Pete and Jonah. No, way more than he ever did. "It's a free country you know. And last I checked you weren't eligible to decide what I do, _Ms. President_." He shot back at her, half glaring and half unsure of what the heck he was doing.

Watching, Carly's eyes widened slightly. _Did he just…? Oh bananas…_

However, instead of Sam becoming angrier or punching the gut out of him like either of them expected, she took a deep breath, leaned back, and smirked at him. "You're alright, Freddie. Now come on, are you getting your smoothie and leaving or what?"

Both the addressed and Carly gaped at her for another moment. Then, finally, Freddie swallowed a lump in his throat and nodded. Slowly, he walked towards the register where T-Bo was happily oblivious to the scene by wiping the table behind him. He picked up his smoothie in his hands and dropped a few coins on the counter, looking back at Sam who had her arms crossed. Walking at a pace just slightly faster than before, he began making his way past the two and out the front door.

'_This isn't so bad…_' He increased his pace once more; confident he would make it out.

Then, without warning, a foot stuck out in front of him. The next thing he knew consisted of a sharp pain of the ground against his chest, a splatter of orange liquid all over him, his clothes, and the floor, and the taunting snicker of the blonde girl he was just passing.

A quick gasp escaped Carly's mouth, and by now even T-Bo was watching, eyes widened.

"Hey, better watch where you're going Fredbag!" Sam shouted down to him, stifling down a laugh, "don't want to soil the ground with your face." And she continued laughing.

In a moment, Carly was by his side, "I am so sorry!"

Freddie stayed frozen for a moment, but quickly turned to her with a slight smile and a shrug. He lifted himself up; taking the napkins that Carly was hastily passing to him and casually cleaned what he could of his face and hair.

Despite this, Carly continued. "L-listen! I'm so sorry for what happened! Look, Sam just kind of gets out of control sometimes and she annoys me too when that happens, but really she's-"

"Used to it." He ended for her, smiled, then lowered his head once more to make his way out of the restaurant. When he was picking up his bag off the floor was when he heard a yell from behind him.

"Yo, Freddie! Want another smoothie? I can wipe up another batch on the house, you know. I'll even add a lemon!" T-Bo offered while holding up a lemon slice. "And you know T-Bo never gives away free stuff."

Freddie gave a half-hearted chuckle, "nah, I'm not really thirsty anymore, T-Bo. But thanks for the offer."

With the sound of a 'ding' and the door closing shut behind him, all that could be seen was an abrupt dying of laughter, and a confused look from the blonde.

iCiCiCiCiCiCiCiCiCiCiCiC

As soon as the restaurant was out of hearing range, Freddie located the closest pebble to him and kicked it as hard as he could. Yeah, that felt good. Normally, it took something really serious for him to find displays of violent relaxing, but the simple encounter with Sam Puckett had irritated him to no end. The stone bounced off of a garbage can in front of him, aiming back his way. Eyes suddenly as wide as saucers, he ducked down to avoid it, hearing the object make a large 'smack' sound when it hit an adjacent wall.

'_Yeah…no wonder I rarely resort to violence…_' he thought sarcastically and stared at the shattered pebble on the ground behind him. It made him wonder just how much force he had actually used on it. But, it looked like the garbage can would be dented for the rest of its life too. At least the wall didn't look damaged, Freddie mused to himself.

"Wow, I guess what they say is true. It is the nubs we should look out for."

Shocking Freddie from his reverie, he jumped back at the sound of a voice behind him, a small squeak escaping his mouth. He turned around in bewilderment, not ready for another beating that night.

Oh.

Sam crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow at the girlish sound which came from his mouth moments before. "Uh, I take that back. You _are_ just a nub."

Hearing that from her, Freddie did what he always did when rude comments were thrown his way. He lowered his head and gave a small nod. Then, silence overtook them.

"…Aren't you going to say something? You know, a comeback, an insult, anything?" she asked.

Keeping his vision down, he turned around and made to walk away from her.

Yeah, like Sam was having any of that. She grabbed him by the strap of his backpack, forcing him to look back at her again. "Hey! No one ignores Sam Puckett when she's talking to them!"

'_If that's even possible…_' Freddie thought, but out loud just muttered a "sorry."

Once more, her eyebrow shot up at his reply. She eyed him up and down, not holding back a look of genuine disgust at his worn-out attire and overall freakish hair and face. Finally stopping, she replied, "So what now? You're going back to ignoring me? I don't understand you _at all_."

He stayed silent, waiting her out, which made her sigh irritably.

"Look, are you going to say something, or am I talking to a completely different person from the one at the Groovy Smoothie?"

Again, she was met with silence. She received nothing in reply from him, aside from a blank gaze from his shallow black eyes. This was really starting to irritate her; like some kind of game he was playing and winning quite effectively.

Sam Puckett _never_ lost.

She groaned, "I knew I shouldn't have let Carly convince me to come after you and '_apologize_'. But no, she had to give me that stupid look of hers which makes everyone do what she wants them to, and now I'm here talking to some nub who Can't. Even. Say. A single. Word."

Finally, Freddie shot her a look of disbelief. '_So she only came because _Carly_ told her?_'

But she ignored it. "This whole thing is stupid. I could be back in Hollywood shooting another episode of iCarly laughing while watching Carly being praised by the guys there, but now I'm stuck in Seattle being _muddled_ by guys, and stuck with one half-guy over here. It's annoying either way, but at least those guys had money and bacon. That Shay can really irritate me sometimes-"

"You're jealous, aren't you?" Freddie said.

At hearing his voice, Sam shot her head from where it wondered during her rant back at him. "Uh…excuse me?"

To be honest, Freddie wasn't sure what he was saying anymore. But the way she acted was something he was so accustomed with that it was hard to miss it. So, forgetting to show any signs of shyness, Freddie stated, "you're just jealous…"

Sam didn't know exactly what came over her, but her eyes suddenly widened at the thought. Luckily, it wasn't long before every ball of intention in her mind which caused it flared up into anger. Yeah, it was just her getting peeved off, nothing else. In an instant, she was up in his face and glaring at him. Freddie appeared undeterred by her sharp gaze on the outside, but in his mind, he was screaming in fear. "And what makes you think that? Mama does not get jealous, and I'll have you know that I own 4 condos, 17 storehouses of Bolivian meat, 9 bank accounts, and an Italian Snow Leopard! What do I have to be jealous about?"

"W-Well…I…" A lot of things. Freddie wanted to say. He could tell just by looking at her. And he was just about to open his mouth to say so, but quickly shut it again.

No, this wasn't right.

She was Sam Puckett. And he was the biggest nerd in the history of schools. He wasn't supposed to be lecturing her, or telling her things about her life. He didn't have any right to. Freddie sighed, settling for what he said next instead.

"I know what it's like…it's scary to put your feelings out there, because you never know if the person you're working so hard for will pay for it." He looked at her one last time with a frown, and started walking away once more to the direction of the park. This time, Sam didn't stop him.

"Wh-" Silence surrounded her after that. Crap. She was never good with words, and now the nerd was probably even_ more_ mad at her. Sam's mouth contorted into many shapes, as if thinking to say something, but eventually, she settled for narrowing her gaze.

"N-Nub…"

When she made it back to the Groovy Smoothie a few minutes later, Carly looked up from the car seat.

"Sam?…That was an awfully long bathroom break."

iCiCiCiCiCiCiCiCiCiCiCiC

The park was one of the best places to be for him, he felt. It was quiet, with the exception of the sounds of children around him playing tag or swinging on the swings. Although some of them would stop to look at him strangely once in a while, it never really went past that level. He could always catch up on school work without the distractions of others trying to keep from doing theirs. He could open his laptop and play while idling on the monkey bars, once he was done. So, Freddie always found the place a lot more calming than most.

But, despite that, the park never beat out the Fire Escape as his favorite spot. He could sit there watching the moon all he wanted. On rainy days, he could simply step onto the other side of the window and hang around there. Tonight was a particularly humid night, so Freddie had long ago abandoned his sweater onto the bench next to him, wearing a simple white T-shirt underneath it. No one but maybe Lewbert ever came by, spazzing at him to not spill anything on the floor if he wanted to stay there as much as he did.

Freddie laughed silently as he pressed another key on his laptop. Lewbert always came off as a jerk, doing things like stealing cookies from children or hiring a bunch of kids to move a vending machine down the street, just because it was not supposed to be in 'his' lobby, only to tell them he was never planning to pay them. But, he was a jerk to everyone. That's just how he was. Strangely, being yelled at by him made Freddie feel bucket loads better than if he had it any other way. He clicked on another link, finding an interesting video about the procedure to setting up an ultrasound detector.

Lost in the article, a sudden drop descending from the tips of his bangs suddenly fell down from the ledge of his eye and onto the ground. Wiping his forehead to feel what it was, he groaned, just remembering now that the smoothie had yet to be cleaned. Not only so, but… '_Great, the hair gel fails me yet again…!_'

Holding his hair up, Freddie jumped over the window sill and made his way to the bathroom. He had several bottles of gel tucked away in his backpack, but there didn't seem to be a point in using it if school wasn't for at least another 9 hours or so and a sleep away. His hair would most likely deflate again by then anyway. Bursting the door open in a rush, he hurriedly pushed the tap on.

It felt nice, the cold water which rushed down from the back of his head to the front of his face once he reached the sink. Especially after such a rough day, it didn't occur to him how a simple face wash could've so easily solved how crappy he was feeling. Freddie ran his fingers through his hair and lathered the last bit of gel and fruit juice away. When he lifted his head again though, he found himself unable to help staring at himself in the mirror once more.

His glasses rested to the side of him, having been taken off a while ago in order to dunk his face in the sink. And, for the first time in years, he got to see himself with neither those nor the crazy hair gel encasing his head. It was weird, how normal he looked. His hair dripped beads of water down his face, while the usual oily look he applied to it had faded away. Unable to stop his hand from completing the image, he raised it to his left eye and gently removed a small lens from within. The iris underneath it stared back at him as a deep brown shade filled with amazement. He remained silent for another moment, studying every bit of the new person which looked back at him.

"Wow, just look at you now…" Freddie raised his eyebrow playfully. Then, he chuckled an empty laugh. He wasn't sure whether to feel alighted or nauseous at the image anymore.

And it was all the smoothie and Sam Puckett's fault.

iCiCiCiCiCiCiCiCiCiCiCiC

**Hmm, well there was the second chapter. I hope it's as good as and hopefully even better than what I wrote in the first. I personally think it is, though it's really up to what you readers out there think! It would be nice if you guys left some reviews to say so.**

**Anyway, if this chapter's any popular, then I'll be sure to write up the next one.**


	3. Rain and Other Drugs

"And stay away from here!" The resonance of a door slamming in a boy's face was heard. Then stomping, then laughter, then the sounds of the night continuing in full effect.

Freddie groaned for what seemed like the hundredth time that week. '_Well, there goes another one…_' A car sped by, whisking wind behind and messing with the large jacket wrapped around him. What was with these people, seriously? He looked down at his hands. They held a strong grip around a rolled-up piece of paper, and it only seemed to tighten more and more as he briskly walked to the nearest recycling bin and emptied its contents into it.

He had really wanted to keep this position this time around. It wasn't the typical one he usually went for at the local supermarket or a pet store. No, it was something he had took interest in the moment he walked into the establishment a few months ago.

The sheet uncurled when it hit the bottom, revealing the words "_Resume: Tech Store Junior Manager_" in dark bold letters. Freddie glared at the title for a few more moments. But, his gaze then softened. He bent down, ripping out a small section of the page and silently reading it over. Thinking for a moment, Freddie then took a pencil out. The utensil scratched something new onto the piece of paper and the boy stuffed it in his pocket, before making his way down the half-lit streets.

It wasn't that his resume was bad. On the contrary, when he sent in the e-mail, the manager contacted him back right away. On screen, they sounded so eager to meet him and have him under their company wings. They _always_ did. But, as soon as they saw his face, everything went tumbling down from there. He thought, no, convinced himself that it would be different this time, but it wasn't.

Not that all the places he went to were completely turned off. About half of the big people kicked him out right away, while some would decide to give him a chance. It was those chances that Freddie took full advantage of. He would always manage to keep his position ranging from a few days to a full month before another employee or the boss himself would make some excuse.

"_Sir, look what he's trying to hide in his backpack!"_

'…A pineapple?' Thinking back, Freddie made a face and kicked the dirt in front of him. 'I wonder what genius stuffed that in my bag and came up with the idea for theft of tropical fruits.'

"_Look at what that mistake in the report has cost our company, Fredward Benson!"_

'Yeah, a whole ¢5 just cuz I forgot to charge tax.'

"_It seems that you fail to meet our chain's requirements."_

"_I'm afraid we can't keep you, Freddie. Your abilities to appeal to the customers are lacking."_

"_Like, can you just leave?"_

He stopped and settled for glaring silently at a building ahead. This wasn't working out. A while ago, he had thought about taking a job at the Groovy Smoothie, but the joint never seemed to need any more help. Those who worked there worked there permanently so opportunities were scarce and few in between. Nearly 3 years of this game and the most he has jingling under his bed was a little over one thousand. One thousand would get him nowhere in this world, unless he lived in a cardboard box and hung out in the land of hobos. He knew that, but nothing he seemed to do ever worked.

Lost in thought, Freddie didn't notice the grey storm clouds forming above him until he felt a strong drop of rain hit his head. He looked up, squinting. And without second hesitation, he drew his jacket hood right over in order to protect his very sensitive afro. His feet carried him to the nearest canopy to wait the short downpour out. Or, what he believed what was going to be a short downpour until the slight shower of water increased to the second world war of the storm gods.

People around him shrieked and followed his lead of finding shelter. Most fled into buildings, but Freddie himself didn't mind staying outside…as long as he wasn't carrying some sort of expensive equipment. Other than that, he was good-

"Oh my god!" A voice yelled. A man on the other side of the street was silently spazzing while trying to pull a large crate of…something up the sidewalk. The wind picked up speed, and a stray piece of cardboard flew into his face. "I am not enjoying this!"

Freddie raised an eyebrow, but otherwise ran up to the man. "Hey! Need some h-?"

"I would very much appreciate that, YES!" He shook his head so the wet cardboard flew away from his vision. Freddie ran behind him, pushing the large weight covered in a garbage bag from behind as the other man continued pulling forward. Wow, was this thing heavy! The volumes of water dissolving onto the load and blurring his vision weren't helping either. What kind of oddly-shaped thing like this could someone be carrying anyway? Oh well, that wasn't for him to ask. At least not now anyways. He pushed harder.

It took a lot of sweat, and man power, and a few minutes of being drenched in mother nature's rain, but the teamwork of the two finally led them into a building a block or two away. As he pulled, Freddie held open the door, breathing heavily yet quite proud of himself for finally making it. It wasn't the same story for the other man though, as as soon as the crate was safely through the entrance, he collapsed on the floor in the image of a sick duck. Freddie soon followed, lying in a tired heap beside him.

"M-Man…" He took a breath. "Th-That was," another breath, "HARD!"

"T-Tell me about it." Freddie shook his head and tightened his hood around him.

"That's the last time I," breath, "promise t-the Dorfmens to build a memorial of the 16 essential nutrients of soy milk."

Freddie sat up, still out of breath and pointed to the crate, "you have soy milk in here?"

"Yeah!" The other man stood up to look down at him with a grin, "and 127 glass cups, a first class mixer, 15 rolls of glue, and this squeaky toy cow I named 'Moo Moo'!"

"_Squeak Squeak!"_

"Okay…"

"Anyway, thanks a lot for helping me back there!" He only grinned wider as Freddie stood up as well and began futilely patting mud away from his pants. "I'm Spencer, the amazing artist at your service." And stuck out his hand for the boy to take, which Freddie hesitantly did.

"Yeah…no problem, Spencer." While shaking his hand, Spencer raised an eyebrow. The younger boy was keeping his head down, and the rest of his face seemed to be hidden by the large blue hood which covered the upper half of his body. Naturally, during the whole fiasco, he never did have a chance to take a good look at who his rescuer was. What, with the whole tidal wave of water spraying into his eyes. Unconsciously, the man began bending down in curiosity, only for Freddie to swiftly escape his grip and turn around. "I have to go now. It was nice meeting you, Spencer."

"Well hey, you know the rule." At that, he stopped. "When a man tells you his name, you have to tell him yours too…"

"Huh?"

"It's true!" Spencer raised his hands. "My great Aunt Natalie, who _does_ exist, told me so."

"Oh…" Freddie stayed silent. "…And you're sure it's a real rule?"

"Yup!"

'_I guess it's only fair._' Freddie thought to himself and smiled shortly after. "My name's Fr-"

"NO SOY MILK IN MY LOBBY!" The stubby figure of Lewbert, mole and all, ran out and pointed harshly at the large crate. He turned to Spencer with narrowed eyes, "you know the rules!"

The addressed man rolled his eyes good-naturally while Freddie's only widened. Wait, what building were they in again? "Yeah, don't worry Lewb. We'll have this load tied up and out of here in no time anyways!"

"Well you have exactly 2 MINUTES and 39 SECONDS to do so before you're kicked out!"

Freddie, ignoring the conversation, turned a full 360, taking in his surroundings for the first time. Luckily for him, his actions remained invisible to the two bickering people before him. Again, his eyes widened when he realized something. Something he missed. Something he probably should've noticed right off the bat. They were in Bushwell Plaza, _his_ exact apartment building.

"_Well apparently Spencer Shay just moved and is current staying at your apartment now. Isn't that awesome?"_

Spencer.

Artist.

…Shay.

On instinct, Freddie made a quiet dash to the elevator, hoping to every extent of the gods' wills that neither Lewbert nor Spencer Shay would notice the escape of a trapped rabbit. As Lewbert marched back into his office ranting about vegetarian milk, he almost believed it worked. It seemed, however, that Zeus was not in the mood to help the needy, when Spencer almost instantly turned to him and grabbed his shoulder gently in confusion. "Woah! Where ya' going there, buddy?"

It was the sharp motion of one person turning in an attempt to run and another stopping him that caused that small piece of paper to fly out from Freddie's pocket, landing on the ground in a quick flutter. It lay face up, revealing to the world and Spencer what was written on it. Crap. Unfortunately, the speed of which the taller man grabbed it out weighed Freddie's futile leap to retrieve the cursed paper first.

"_**Resume**__  
><em>_**Name: Your Everyday Person  
><strong>__Objective: Seeking a position in the field of __(_money management and technology)_**the stupid**__ which utilizes (_profound) _**shallow **__challenges (_and skills)_ in (_communication and organization)**everyday crap**_, as well as provide real-life experience with (_future careers involving hardware)_** how messed up the world is**__._"

No, he had been having a bad week. He got fired again and only written that out of anger. Nothing else; he didn't mean it…was what Freddie kept wanting to say. But as he stared at Spencer's wide brown eyes trailing the words, his mouth wouldn't move. Eventually, Spencer lowered the paper and handed it back to him with a frown. Then, a small silence overtook them as he seemed to be considering something. Freddie had half a mind to believe he would suddenly burst out laughing, and the other half reserved for thinking that he wouldn't take it seriously. But, the opposing man simply beamed a smile at him.

"So, you want a job, right?"

"I-I…" What just happened?

"Is that a yes or a no?"

"Well-it's just-I…you-yes." Freddie finished lamely. He still wasn't processing what was going on.

"Well, from now on you're going to be my little buddy then!" Without warning, Spencer wrapped one arm around Freddie's shoulder and proceeded to skip around the room. "And I've got myself a new assistant!"

After a full 30 seconds of being dragged by the grown-up who was clearly too old to be acting this way, Freddie finally gathered his thoughts enough to manage to probe his arm off him. He took a few steps away from him, scared that Spencer was going to pull off another one of his surprises that day. What was next? Neon-lit socks? Nose-decorated Christmas trees?

…Right.

"Woah, woah, wait…what's going on?" Spencer stopped to grin childishly at him.

"You just got hired!"

"By who?"

"Me!"

"H-How? What?" Was he dreaming?

"Listen kid. I'm a world-known artist and sculpturer. I am in perfect authorezution to-"

"You mean '_authorization_'?" Despite being completely exasperated, Freddie's fear was quickly turning into amusement.

"Whatever!" He waved an arm in the air. "The point is that you're going to work as an assistant artist and video manager for the great Spencer Shay now!" He did a pose, causing the shorter boy to inwardly chuckle.

"I don't think that's-" Freddie started but was stopped by Spencer running up to him with pleading eyes. "Come on, pleeease?" To add to the effect, he lifted his lip in a pout and imitated the sound of a whining puppy.

"Uhm, Spencer…" By now, the poor boy was near the point of laughing, only stopped by his will to hold it down.

"Oh come on! I even used my best look!" Spencer stood up at his full height to look at him with his hand on his chin and faking to be deep in thought. "To resist _that_, you are a strong one."

"Spence…" A snort escaped his mouth.

"I know! You want to see my special socks?" Seriously? "Everyone loves my special socks-"

That was enough. Freddie burst out laughing. Oh, it felt good to laugh again. The slight out-of-breathiness was actually refreshing, and the pain in his sides openly welcomed. He brought his arms to his stomach, looking up at the artist to see his reaction for what he had done. However, his sincerely confused expression only made Freddie laugh harder. "Did I…do something funny?"

"Dude! Stop it!" Freddie finally managed to breathe out. "I-I'll be your video producer and graphic assistant if y-you just stop…"

Despite not knowing what just happened, Spencer grinned widely like a four-year old child. "Great! So…can I know your name now?"

Freddie stopped laughing. "What?"

"Uh, your name?"

"Oh." He stood straight to recover from his laughing fest. Yeah, like letting the world know that Freddie Benson was not only hanging out but had been hired by Spencer Shay sounded like a brilliant idea. He would probably get his picture taken in a magazine for having the most bruises on his head if anyone found out. So, what did he do? He only had one other option.

"Fr-Frank." He said in a small voice.

"Hm?"

"Frank Bentley."

He wouldn't, however, get into any magazines for his originality.

iCiCiCiCiCiCiCiCiCiCiCiC

"Hey, where are you going all of a sudden?"

Sam turned around to face her best friend. "Out."

"What? But it's pouring outside!" Carly jumped off of her place on the bed, running up to the blonde in confusion. "Plus, you're going to miss the appointment we have at 8:30pm to get our pedicures done!"

Sam shot her a look. "Seriously, Carls?"

"Well yeah I know nails aren't your thing, but granddad scheduled this for us and you know how all the maids are like…" No reaction, but Carly was prepared for that so she brought out her last resort. "Come on, you know they serve free bacon during the whole thing!"

"And your point is…?"

Carly gaped at her, "d-did you just turn down bacon?"

"Uh, yeah." Instant concern mixed with panic flashed across Carly's face. And the next thing Sam knew was the brunette grabbing her by the shoulders and shaking her form violently.

"Are you OKAY?" She shook harder.

"Carly! Could you just let go-"

"Oh my god. Who did this to you, Sam? If that's your real name!" The shaking stopped, only for Carly to shoot a narrowed gaze at her friend in complete suspicion and fear.

"Carly…"

"Alright, where did you hide her?"

Tired of being interrogated, Sam finally shoved her friend's hands away from her and stepped back a good seven feet. "Carly, it's me! Stop acting like the apocalypse is coming!"

"But it is!" Carly turned and pointed an arm at her, "you refused meat!"

"I'm just not in the mood, okay?" The blonde grumbled at her. She took two more steps back towards the bed and slumped onto it, arms crossed. After recovering from her shock, Carly followed, her much limper form making room for itself beside her.

"Sam…what's wrong?" She asked in a tender voice. A flash of lightening resonated behind them.

"…Nothing's wrong." A boom of thunder.

Carly let out a breath, "yeah, and Spencer just found the cure for cancer."

"I can do without the sarcasm, Shay." Sam turned to her, but had a slight smile on her face.

"Yeah, and I can do without the lying, Sam." Carly returned the smile, and then gingerly held up a hand. "Didn't we say no secrets between friends?"

She rolled her eyes in response, but still nodded her head in agreement. "It's just…something about this place, Seattle…that really gives me the creeps."

"Care to expand on that?" Flash, again.

As soon as that statement left her lips, a voice filled Sam's head. One that took over her thoughts and proceeded to control every crevice of her brain until it forced her to think about something she preferred to never address. Sam slapped it away just as another wave of thunder came over them, annoyed at her mind for thinking so much about what the nerd had told her a few days ago. Focus, Puckett!

She inwardly groaned, before finally opening her mouth. "…First off, the people here are weird." Yeah, like a certain afro-nub. "We're both used to perfect back in Hollywood. Now don't get me wrong, Shay, everything was _far_ from perfect. But every single person we've met was obsessed with the thought." Sam took a breath, taking note of Carly's look which told her she understood what she meant.

"Here…everyone's just messed up in their own chizzing way. You can't tell what one person wants anymore because they're all so different. It's…sort of new."

Carly sat, taking in Sam's short rant, before a smile crossed her face. "Kinda like us?"

"…Yeah, actually. Good observation, Carls." At that, the two broke out into a quiet and short fest of laughter at their new revelation. Neither of them noticed the third oncoming of flashes and booms which came from outside their safe mansion.

"You know what?" Carly's laughter died down first. "Let's go out."

"In this _pouring_ rain?" Sam imitated her from earlier. "And now the goody-two-shoes Carly Shay is going to skip out on her granddad's little pedicure?" Then, she smirked. "It really is the apocalypse."

"Yup, it sure is." Carly told her with a smile, "and when he asks, I'll just say I was helping a friend out."

"Which you are, in your own Carly-way." Sam stood up from the bed and grabbed a random jacket from the large closet, her brunette friend quickly following suit. In less than a minute, both locked the main door behind them and managed to sneak out without anyone noticing.

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It was a lot easier to transport the large load into the apartment room when the elevator was helping. As the door made a familiar 'ding' sound, the two wonderfully drenched and dripping figures stepped out. While one stayed rooted to the spot and gazed around, the other ran across the condo and into the bathroom to get changed.

Freddie was amazed, to put it simply. In comparison to his tight and musky room, which resembled more of a closet, this was a palace to him. Not only so, but the walls were covered with various works of crazy art. Not the kind of classical or overly high-end art, but the kind that he would expect from Spencer. His sight landed from a robot made out of plastic bottles, to a framed picture of a life-size sculpture of the mascot for 'Toasty' made out of real butter. Then, he dedicated some time to staring at the flat-screen television and the wires hanging out from it which laid out in front, one of the newest models he had read in an ad. It was claimed to have 96-hour memory which recorded every show you watched the past four days, an over-night surveillance, and a 75 year warranty.

Man, how could he resist? Just as he was going to walk over to the machine and start playing with its functions, the sound of the bathroom door interrupted his daze and Spencer came running out in a new pair of jeans and a T-shirt.

"Yo Frank-o!" He half-shouted, but his voice was naturally loud. In his hands was a pair of slightly smaller jeans and a blue collar dress shirt. "Want to borrow some of my clothes? You're soaking wet."

"N-no, Spence. It's okay…" Over the course of 5 minutes, Freddie had already gotten into the habit of calling him 'Spence'. Spencer was just too much of a mouthful for him to say when he was in a rush or wanted his attention. Besides, he wasn't the type to be so stuck to formalities. He subconsciously pulled the hood over his head tighter.

"Oh no! You are not going to catch a cold and stand there acting all tough and manly!" Spencer pointed an accusing finger. "So you better get in there!" Without another word, he threw the clothes over Freddie's head and pulled him into the bathroom.

"U-Uh, wait!" But it was too late. The teen was in the bathroom, Spencer was waiting outside the door, and he was expected to abandon that same hood which had been hiding his face all along.

Oh chiz.

No, Freddie did not want to lose the job he had just gotten and started to accept the idea of. He was sick of it; being fired. The last one had been the final straw for him. It's not that Spencer as of now hasn't been an extremely nice person to him but…there were other tech-savvy people out there, and a lot of his past managers had started out just as friendly.

And no, Freddie did not want his brothers to find out.

Taking a deep breath, he slowly slid his hood down, revealing his half-drenched face and bug-eyed glasses. First thing's first was his glasses, and it was almost completely new territory for him from there on out. He stuffed them into his pockets. Another breath, he shut his eyes tightly, turned the sink on, dunked his head in, and 2 minutes later, was ready to switch his over-sized clothes for the ones Spencer gave him. The large mirror overlooking him did not go unnoticed.

"_That kid! He looks just like him!"_

"_Freddie! Did you just push that poor boy? Now what did we say about physical contact?"_

It felt weird to wear jeans again after so long.

"_M-Mom, what's going on? Who is he?"_

And a dress shirt was exactly what _he_ would wear.

"_I've hated him for a decade now. I've hated that face and everything he's made for himself!"_

Freddie grimaced at the booming voices in his head. But, he made his final decision. Removing the last layer of his disguise from his eye, he smiled weakly and opened the door to see Spencer's shocked yet amused face, "so how about we get started?"

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"Where to, Shay?" Despite the loud downpour, the two could talk coherently as long as they remained huddled together. Which, was also a good idea to keep the blasting of water to a minimum.

"You know to be honest; I don't really know that many places around Seattle. And I think the Groovy Smoothie is closed today."

"Ugh, seriously?" Sam groaned, but quickly recovered. "Wanna just walk around then…? I mean, if you're willing to battle an army of Nazis in the form of water."

"I wouldn't be surprised if that were true. This rain is horrible!" Carly wrapped her coat tighter around her slim body. "I don't think we have much of a choice."

"Tell me about it." Sam spat out a mouthful of water which had flown into her mouth throughout the whole conversation. Then the two began making their way down the streets.

Aside from the sounds of pouring, neither of them spoke for the next hour, simply concentrating themselves on the road ahead. Since their conversation inside, there had been no more signs of lightning and the storm really wasn't so bad once you got used to it. Really, this would've made a nice friend-bonding moment for the books. It could've…if the two didn't suddenly jump at another boom of thunder above them; a boom which was much louder than either of them had ever heard. Following it was a harsh gust of wind and a sudden pickup in intensity of the rain, causing them to nearly fall over. Without any second thought, they both ran to a building and stood just at the entrance of the door. Carly hastily reached over to open it, but it was locked tightly. And Sam didn't spot any locks for her to pick either.

"Okay…" Sam looked around blankly, "maybe we should've thought this through."

"Yeah, _maybe!_" Carly shouted out to the skies, which replied by sending another gust of wind at them.

"Come on, Carly. This isn't so bad!" Sam attempted a smile. "Apparently all the buildings around here are scan locked. Neither of us knows enough tech-stuff to get in. The sky hates us. Yet, we're drenched already, so why not enjoy it while we're still out here?"

Carly stared at her.

"Okay okay, let's find some place to take shelter in…geez." The so called drenched blonde lifted her arms in defeat and began looking around. It was when her eyes landed on a sturdy pair of stairs that a grin came to her face. "Look! We can just get in through there!"

Carly obligated, and turned back to her. "The fire escape?"

"It's perfect!" Sam had already begun dragging the poor brunette towards the towering structure. Ignoring Carly's slight resistance as they both made their way up the stairs in a quick dash, they were panting and out of breath.

"Yeah…if you ignore the fact that they're probably all locked from the outside!" Carly yelled out just a moment before Sam's hand attempted to open the large window on the second floor. Another annoyed struggle and the girl took a step back, lowering her fist then smacking it against the glass with as much force as she could. It didn't so much as budge.

"Are you fudging kidding me? It won't even move at one of _my_ punches! Why the chiz not?"

"I don't know! Let's just get out of here!" Carly made an attempt to motion her back down the steps and on the street, but she didn't listen. Instead, Sam made a mad dash up the stairs to the third and fourth floors, leaving her friend behind and frantically trying to chase her. "S-Sam!"

"Listen, Shay!" Sam yelled down, almost a whole floor ahead of her as she looked through another window. Nothing. "There has to be someone on the other side who'd eventually notice and let us in!" She kept climbing. Man, why were there so many stairs? Whose idea was it to put each level so far from one another?

"_Or_, we could just run back to our house like sane people!" Her friend shouted back, but was ignored once more as her pace just caused her to fall back to being nearly 2 floors behind. Their mansion was probably over 10 blocks away. And as much as Carly didn't want to admit it, she wasn't as in shape as Sam was. She was already tired from walking around Seattle in a rainstorm. And her breathing was quickly hitching in her throat. The more she ran, the higher her rate of deceleration, until she slowed down to a walk, to a desperate crawl, and completely collapsed just as she was between the stairs of the fifth and sixth floors. Carly could only stare against the wall, trying to catch her breath.

Meanwhile, Sam's pace had also slowed considerably. Her sprint was now a paced run, looking into the windows of floor seven. She did feel bad for leaving her friend behind, but she knew she was strong enough to handle a couple of wet stairs. And it was the most important that they find shelter from the rain as soon as possible, especially for Carly. So Sam didn't want to waste that time sitting beside her and consoling a grown teenage girl. It was pretty much guaranteed that they'd both wake up with a cold by tomorrow morning anyway.

Just then, a splash of rain hit her face, forcing the blonde to squint her eyes shut as she found herself lunging at the last fleet of stairs which led to the top floor of the building, number eight. Instead of the bottom of her shoes hitting cement after the last step, the feeling of her foot making contact with something below her caused her to trip, sending her forwards towards the hard ground.

Oh, chiz. Was all that crossed her mind. She was going to hit hard, wasn't she?

She expected to find herself face against cement, body badly scratched, and little meatballs flying around her head, but then landed on something…soft?

Or rather, _someone _caught her.

"Woah! A-Are you okay?" a male voice frantically asked her, arms taking a firm grip around her waist as he looked down with concerned eyes.

"Wh-What the-" Sam started, but then just noticed how close this person, this _male_, was being to her. His arms were around her body which was parallel to the ground, and her chest was in his lap, safely keeping her from colliding with the floor. At this, anger boiled down inside her at their proximity. No one was allowed to touch Sam Puckett that way, even if it was to save her head! She looked up, just about to tell him off, but froze.

The person holding her froze as well. Now, he couldn't see her that well because of the rain and fog, but what he could make of those vibrant sea-blue eyes was an instant give away to him. In what seemed like a second, he gently placed her on the ground and swiftly made his escape through the window sill leading inside.

Quickly snapping out of her trance, Sam yelled, "H-Hey! Wait!"

Taking every last bit of the energy she had left, she lifted herself off the floor and jumped over the opening, attempting to catch him. However, by the time she came to her surroundings, every sign of life in the corridor was gone. The only sounds came from her harsh breaths, the thundering from outside, and the tapping of Carly's footsteps. She lowered her hands. He was gone.

Gazing blankly ahead, Sam walked to the nearest wall and leaned against it.

…

Chocolate, or was it bacon? With the wind blowing in every direction, the rain blinding her, and the fog keeping everything else about him a haze, all she saw was chocolate. Two gleams of chocolate staring back at her with more concern and amazement than she had ever seen anyone express before, directed to a total stranger nonetheless.

Absentmindedly, a small smile formed on her face. But, she didn't notice.

By the time Carly's heavy breaths could be heard, a blur to her right caught her attention, and on instinct she ran to it. It was cheesy, Sam Puckett promised herself never to think this way, and a moment ago the notion would've made her want to puke blood. But, she wanted to see them again.

She reached a hand out, grabbed the passing figure by the shoulder, and whirled him around to face her. It was probably ridiculous. Coming face to face with a girl who was normally so attractive be drenched in mud and water, out of breath, and so out of place. But, who gave a crap? She didn't.

The man before her had brown eyes, which was all Sam could remember from his appearance. He stood tall with slightly darker hair, and a shocked look on his face; one which quickly switched to a sly smile.

In a moment, Sam's features dropped.

"…Jonah?"

iCiCiCiCiCiCiCiCiCiCiCiC

**Ugh, sorry it took so long to update! My dad's computer completely crashed on me and wiped out my entire hard drive filled with all my files, documents, pictures, etc. And the funny thing is that that happened just as I finally sat down to start writing chapter 3…like, literally right when I opened the blank page. Then, it took about a week and a half for the company to fix it and bring the machine back.**

**I'm only glad chapters 1 and 2 of this story were safely stored here; can't say the same about that Seddie AMV I was half done making…**

**Anyway, thank you to all the nice readers and especially the reviewers out there still hanging on to this story. And no thanks to my computer for completely crashing all my files and officially messing me over after 3-4 years since it last did that. =D**

…**Sorry if the last scene was too cliché…**


	4. Meatball

"Sam!" Jonah made a gesture to wink at her, then eye-balled her form up and down. "Whoa, what happened to you?"

On instinct, she bit back, "N-None of your beeswax!" And stomped away, completely flustered. What the beef pants? What the chiz just happened? What was this guy _doing _here? He was never…But, who else? What was any of this supposed to mean? Where the hell could she get a good meal?

Then…Crap, since when did her head start feeling so heavy? After her hype for what happened on the fire escape died down, the sensation had come like a subway hitting an ant.

Sam never really paid attention to most things; city protests, classes, lectures about the environment, tests, and especially math teachers. But, the throbbing pain in her head coupled with the sudden weakness in her knees was hard to miss. By the time she felt the presence of her best friend before them, they finally gave in. Her body spiraled down, only to feel the frantic movement of hands holding her upward. Dang, where did this sudden urge to sleep come from?

"Sam!" In a second, Carly was by her side and shaking her. She was still out of breath.

The lump in her throat prevented the blonde from speaking, but she kept her eyes closed when a wry smile came about her face. How great was it to have a best friend like her? She may have been annoying sometimes with her goody-goody ways, but she could always count on Carly to stick around in those rare instances when 'the demon' needed some help. Yup, Carly was a friend to keep. Her mind collected itself from the shock, just enough to fight against all forces of drowsiness working on it. So, she managed to open her eyes.

Again, to see brown ones staring down at her.

She closed her own. It never occurred to her to look past that. It never came to her that she may have made a fool of herself. It was not an issue, at least not now. It was like a voice came into her head simply telling her one thing; to sleep. So, knowing that she was at the care of her best friend, Sam allowed the drowsiness to overcome her.

This was not the first time Carly Shay had seen her best friend faint. In fact, they had known each other since they were five. Memories of how her risk-taking classmate would always climb taller and taller trees as they grew up, charge against any angry animals on their junior camping trips, or beat up some of the maids who tried to force her into extravagant skirts upon many other things ended in some…interesting experiences. Charging outside in the middle of an F2 storm while running something equivalent to a marathon would be one to add to the list.

"Oh! Thank you so much!" Being the ever optimistic girl she was, Carly beamed at the boy who still had his hands held firmly around her. She grazed over at Sam in concern. "Was she okay when you first talked to her?"

He somewhat chuckled. "She seemed fine; better even. She's the feisty type, huh?"

"You don't know one-sixth of it."

He laughed, "I do watch iCarly, you know."

"Oh. So it's just half then." For whatever inexplicable reason, Carly found herself forcing a polite smile. Something about him was just off-putting. "…uhm, may I please ask you for your name?"

"Jonah." His aura never faltered, and he gave a good-natured bow. "And you are Carly Shay and the little fighter in my arms must be Sam Puckett."

Seeing as Sam was unconscious, Carly answered for her. "Yeah. Look, we're kind of sorry for suddenly climbing through the fire escape all drenched and unattractive like this. We were trying to find shelter." As if on queue, a loud crackle of thunder outside lit up, shaking the whole building.

"Ah." Jonah nodded his head, "so you have no place to stay for the night?"

Carly's eyes widened, "wait…the _night_?"

"Yeah, the news said that the rain and wind won't let up until late tomorrow afternoon." He said this casually, and adjusted his hold on Sam so she was buried in his chest. Carly only half-ignored how dead he would be if she were awake. A small squeak escaped her lips.

"O-Oh," she recovered fast, "then it's best we be going then…and thanks for the info, Jonah."

Carly made her way to him and held her arms up in a motion to take her friend back. Okay, well this wasn't as bad as it seemed at first. She could always call home and let them know where they were. Yeah, that was it. Then they could use some of that minimal amount of money they had to buy some snacks from the vending machines in the lobby. Then again, the phone lines should've been dead for a while now, and her cell phone wasn't working either. And...Where would they stay? Sam looked like she would be running a high fever by late night. Even though it was Sam she was talking about, a few chocolate bars wasn't going to cut it.

Oh, who was she kidding? This was depressing!

Just as she was ready to retrieve the limp body and continue deeper into the depths of her inner denial that everything was going wrong, Jonah swiftly turned away from her. The blonde body was still tightly pressed against him. Shocked, Carly just stared at him.

He smirked, "hey, I have an idea."

iCiCiCiCiCiCiCiCiCiC

Freddie grumbled to himself. He was currently seated in Spencer's living room, ultra-sensitive compatible cloth in hand as he gently dried off the switcher on his camera. The storm outside was so horrible, that even the SD memory card slot was soaked! It came as common sense to him that none of the contraptions within a high quality camera could get wet. Water tended to warp the output image and ultimately damage the device, even after it dries off. Freddie knew he should've checked the weather before leaving anything out in it, but he had been so upset that day that…ugh, let's not go there.

Spencer himself didn't seem to mind the abrupt interruption in his assistant's task. In fact, the guy had a pretty short attention span himself. When Freddie had paused the still-shooting and suggested that a camera which had the latest auto-exposure function would be better, just to suddenly bolt out of the apartment, the older man simply shrugged and settled for sipping quietly on some oystamato juice. Whatever that was.

"Hey, isn't it about time you went home, Frank?" Spencer was peering at the kitchen clock. It clearly read 12:04am on its large hands. "If you want to stay longer, you might want to call your parents or something."

Freddie furrowed his brow. Was Spencer actually being responsible? Well, he guessed he had a feeling he was already. It didn't escape his mind that the man could manage to pay for such a luxury condo to live in on his own, and the place looked relatively clean. He took one last wipe and double-checked that every crevice of the device was dry. Then, he placed it down and smiled at Spencer. "Nah, it's alright. I'll just leave now."

"If you say so, Frank-o." He began sipping once more, making a disturbingly loud slurping noise resound in the room. "Oh, and don't worry about the clothes. I've never been able to work the stripe look anyway…my last girlfriend always made fun of me before pouring radish sauce on it; you should be fine though since I've never worn the one you have on. My cousin also said she'd rather eat poisonous frogs than see me in stripes…and then there's that one time I went to the zoo and the zebras-"

"Alright Spencer, I get it." Once more, Freddie allowed himself to chuckle. "Thanks…"

"No problem, man."

"No really," a pause, "thanks for everything." And with that, he stood up, wrapped his camera and laptop in a protective covering, and made his way to the door, but not before turning to look back at him. "Hey, Spence?"

"Yeah?"

"I-Is it alright if I keep this here with you?" At that, Freddie reached into his backpack, pulling out a silver-white object which looked half-broken yet strangely preserved. Spencer made his way towards him, staring the machine down with an apprehensive look. "It's a Pearpod." Freddie answered for him.

"Wow," was all he could say, "it looks totaled."

"It was worse before." The boy sighed and shook his head. It was the one his brother had thrown onto the cafeteria floor. Being a geek for all things tech-y, he didn't want it to happen again. "I managed to fix some of the primary hard drives and minimal devices such as the fan and power button. The GUI processing system for the touch screen took the longest to re-assemble. But the monitor in order for it to work requires several layers of high-quality panels and glass which need replacing as well as a few sensitive chips. The protective cover also needs to be redone for the best result…which together might take a while."

"I see…" Spencer held his chin in hand with a thoughtful look, faking to understand every word. Eventually, he gave up and simply accepted the Pearpad in his hand. "That shouldn't be a problem then." Leaving his spot, he placed it in the corner of the room where Freddie gave a small nod to, making sure to keep it so it wasn't easy to trample on or have fall onto the floor. Then, saying their short goodbyes, the latter stepped out of the condo and closed the door behind him.

As soon as the man could no longer see him, Freddie let one of the largest smiles he had ever produced in the past 8 years escape his face. He liked Spencer. He seemed like an idiot at first, and he sort of was. But he was a supportive one. One who never pestered people when he knew they didn't want to talk nor ask too many questions. He was also fun to be around.

Fun, was not something he had felt in a long time. And Freddie was going to savor ever moment of it as he could. Stepping over to his apartment right across the hall, he was so determined to reach such a goal that he had nearly forgotten to retrieve his half-wet coat from his bag and zip it around his frame once more. Of course, bringing the hood up to its full exposure, before inserting the key into the door and letting himself in.

It seemed all of his efforts were wasted, when he basked himself in a dark room as a welcome. Weird, his brothers usually weren't in bed already. And no way were they outside in this storm. Even though it was strange, he wasn't going to question his apparent luck as his original plan was to sneak into the bathroom anyway. He was tired yes, but he would never miss a class of brushing his teeth. Just thinking of all that bacteria knobbing away at his gums made him feel anxious. His mother made him pessimistic of germs okay?

Freddie took a step, noticing nothing wrong, and kept walking. His apparent goal would've been reached, if it weren't for a sudden growl erupting from his stomach. Then, he realized something.

'_Ugh,_' He held his stomach in hunger and whined, '_I haven't eaten at all since noon…_'

Great. If only he opted to share some of that oystamato juice Spencer was having earlier, he wouldn't have to go through this mess. As random as it was, he never could sleep well on an empty stomach, and occasionally found himself waking up in the middle of the night if he had forgotten to eat much that day. Freddie silently groaned and turned his destination to the kitchen. Thankfully, he made it there in only a few strides, and opened the fridge. He switched to looking in the top half, before switching back and contemplating a few more seconds. Shrugging, he took a small bowl of expired meatballs and a fork out and stepped into the living room. Hey, they were only 2 days past due date, which was amazing compared to some of the other things lurking in there.

In all the shock of getting what seemed to be a stable job, it occurred to Freddie that he had never asked Spencer when to go back. He gently smacked his forehead. As he took off his school bag and let it slide to the ground, his legs carried him to the small couch in slight aggravation. Recently he seemed to be forgetting a lot of things. They were about one-seventh of the way finished that still-shot portfolio after nearly 5 hours of nonstop work, not including the time spent when he was drying his equipment. Spencer never explained why he needed it done, but his dedication probably meant it was important. The bad thing was that there was still a long way to go. Of course he had to return back soon. He stuck a meatball in his mouth.

'_Un-expectantly, Spencer actually seems like the type who'd get it done._' Freddie stared at the ceiling, plucking the fork out of his mouth and chewing. He skewered the second piece and sat down.

Only to land on something bony and snoring.

In record speed, the boy bolted back up in shock and fear. Was that a human he just sat on? Wait, what if Pete or Jonah was sleeping in the living room tonight and he just inadvertently _sat_ on one of them? Now he was going to be dead-

"_Snore…Snore_"

Oh. So he didn't wake him up. Subconsciously, he released a sigh of relief which he didn't know he was holding. That relief, however, didn't last long when Freddie suddenly felt someone grab his right hand and force his whole body down, nearly tripping him over. When he came to, he found himself in a squatting position and staring straight at his tormentor.

What. ON EARTH. Was _SHE_ doing here?

"_Snore…Snore"_

Wait. Was…was this…girl-no, Sam eating his meatball while sleeping _at the same time_?

Indeed she was. As Freddie's extended hand still held tightly on the fork, she had already snatched the piece of food away in her mouth and was chewing hungrily with her mouth open. All the while, she refused to let go of his arm as if he was some meat-gifting god sent from above.

Randomly, Freddie's thoughts chose to wander. '_I wonder what she's dreaming about…? Swimming in an ocean of meatballs I'm guessing._' His mouth cracked the tiniest of smiles at the idea. But, was stopped when she only seemed to pull him closer, until her arm was snuggling his like a teddy bear.

Immediately, heat radiated from the boy's cheeks. Freddie attempted with all his strength to pull his body away, only for her to pull back just if not more fiercely. It was like a tug-of-war, with one side giving his all, and the other sleeping and probably completely unaware of what was going on. At first, he had no idea why Sam, _the_ Sam from iCarly, would be sleeping on their couch. But, then again, this wasn't the first time Pete or Jonah had brought girls home before. Even if Sam seemed tough and un-touchable on camera, people tended to change once the world wasn't watching.

'_What's with her?_' Freddie half screamed, hoping that that would help. It didn't. Just as the thought came, he found himself crashing once more against her body so his arm was neatly rested against her chest and neck, and his shoulder grazed her stomach. He grumbled. To make the situation any less awkward, he avoided eye contact with anything happening behind him and stared straight ahead.

Then, a sting came across the back of his hand. Freddie winced but turned in confusion at the abrupt pain. His fingers. They were pressed lightly against her cheek. He hadn't noticed before but her cheek and the rest of her body burned like the sun. Was she…sick? A shiver which traveled through her stomach and into his shoulder confirmed it. Now, he stared at her.

"Uh…" For the first time realizing that the container was still in his possession, he lifted his hand towards her face, as if offering it. She needed them more than he did, and as an official sleep eater, he didn't think she'd mind much. Almost instinctively, she snatched the bowl of meatballs away from him, her hold on his right arm loosening considerably enough for him to finally scotch away from her.

"_Snore…Cough…Munch_"

"_Cough…Munch…Snore_"

Freddie stood up after a moment and sighed. He had eaten a total of one meatball, but as long as it kept his stomach from rumbling through the night, he was alright.

"_Munch…Snore…_"

Again, he stared at her. The light in the room and from outside was definitively poor, so he spent his time identifying the outline of the shadows on the wall.

"_Cough…Munch_"

Just as well. This person would probably be gone by the time the storm ended. She wouldn't spare a glance at him if she had the chance, as he would mostly be hiding out anyway. Then, as he returned to school on Monday, he could tell Gibby all the tales of the amazing sleep-eating girl he saw on the couch. Of course, leaving out the part that it was Sam. So, Freddie turned and made to leave.

"…_Shiver_" He froze.

Another second, and Freddie sped-walked to his bedroom. From what he could remember from being so…close to her, she wasn't properly covered for someone who had such a high fever. In less than a minute, he hastily swung the door to his room open, ran to the mattress on the floor, came back with the thickest blanket he had, and gently threw it over her cold body.

"…_Shiver. Shiver…"_

No. She was supposed to stop shivering! He ran to his room once more, this time returning with two smaller blankets.

"…"

'_Um, is she…okay now?_' He stopped, standing still for another 20 seconds till something happened. But nothing came out of her; not even a snore. He should've returned to bed by now but for some reason, he felt wide awake.

"…"

"…"

"…"

"…w-who the heck are you?" Freddie jumped back ten feet. He pulled his hood over him further, though it was already covering nearly half his face.

Even through the darkness of the room, he could sense the girl trying to push herself up, only to fall back on her elbows again. A pained groan escaped her lips. Just for a moment Freddie let his concern over-take his fear, and that one moment was enough to find himself in front of her once more. "Sam, don't overdo it! You're sick."

Past her squinted eyes and sweaty forehead, she forced herself up again. "Don't t-tell me what to do."

"Okay. Then get up and over do it."

"…" Knowing he won, Freddie let a small smile tug at his mouth as he watched her collapse back down. She was clearly annoyed yet relieved to rest once more. They didn't speak for another moment. Until finally, she groaned.

"Man, I feel like that time I caught my English teacher making out with the vice principle in the closet in sixth grade; sick and scarred for life."

That smile that was itching on his face grew wider. "Can't be worse than when I went to a farm because I had to write a report on a horse's reproductive organs." Sam winced.

"Let me tell you something: I don't envy you." Again, they grew silent, with the exception of the occasional cough or wave of thunder. Sam seemed to be studying the objects around the unfamiliar room, but Freddie could tell that her eyes occasionally flashed in his direction. Most likely at his over sized hood.

"You should sleep." He finally said. It wasn't that the silence was awkward or anything, but he was beginning to embrace the drowsiness which took over him once more. That and the hood was starting to make him feel a bit suffocated. He began stepping away.

"Hey." He stopped, only a foot or two away from her. Knowing he was listening, Sam took her time in uttering her next lines. "Uh…thanks, I guess."

"Huh?"

"…I don't know. Just felt like saying it." Sam almost made to turn away from him, but a violet episode of coughing interrupted her halfway. A strange puking sensation overcame her. And it took Freddie all of two seconds to realize what she was going to do. Quick as a wink, he was doing that a lot lately; he ran to the kitchen and managed to grab a cooking pot before holding it out to her in panic. She didn't hesitate in taking it.

"_Blaaarrrghh!"_

The whole time, Freddie was patting her back. Though, he made sure to look away as he never enjoyed watching someone throw up. It didn't sound good though. Sam was violently shaking as she continued to cough and sputter. Some left over puke was dripping off her chin and the pot was becoming a lot fuller than either had anticipated. With one last large jerk, one which sent Freddie's head flying back, she let out a powerful cough before relaxing her shoulders over the rim of the bucket. "Ugggghh! I hate this so much!"

"Wow, you look horrible-" But the boy stopped himself as soon as he felt her back stiffening. From the muffles of her face still hanging over the pot, he could make out the words "_…ever tell anyone about this, I'll rip…never see daylight again…sew them to your face like…retarded monkey._" He understood.

"I won't tell anyone." She turned to him, a drip of puke hanging on her bottom lip. Her breath hitched. Despite her disheveled look, Freddie smiled back at her. "Promise."

She didn't say anything. All she did was stare at him. Something was off. He knew it. But when those blue eyes were being directed at him once more, Freddie couldn't help but admire their color. They were usually such a sharp and dangerous tsunami, but now they seemed…mellow, shocked? He found himself feeling uncomfortable. "…Sam?"

Eventually, Freddie broke eye contact, settling for distancing himself away from her when his vision landed on a tissue box in the corner instead. He handed her one, watched her finger it slowly, and took the bucket away from her hands. He flushed its contents down the toilet, returning quickly to retrieve the smelly sponge lounging over their shallow sink in order to clean the sludge off. Their kitchen and living room was basically one medium-sized hall, so the whole time, Freddie could feel Sam's eyes bearing at the back of his head. What was wrong with her all of a sudden? Maybe it was the expired meatballs.

Recovering from her daze, Sam coughed into the tissue though not as violently as before. Somehow, everything felt safe despite the fact that she woke up in another boy's home. She rested her head against the pillow.

In normal circumstances, she would've thought: 'heck, he kidnapped and is planning to kill me, that dingo!' Or something along those lines. But, that was impossible. He wouldn't do that. She had a chance to see them again, just like she wanted to. And now she was sure of it. And when Sam was sure of something, she was most likely right.

Knowing that, she fell asleep to the sound of his scrubbing rhythms and running water. This time, dreaming of swimming in an ocean of chocolate.

And it was only when Freddie was returning to his bedroom a minute later that he realized that his hood had fallen off.

It was the same night he almost had a heart attack.

iCiCiCiCiCiCiCiCiCiC

At exactly 7:00am in the morning on a Sunday, he checked to have all his gear ready and snuck straight out the apartment door without a single noise. He made sure to wear a different hood this time, not bothering to change back into his original look since he was planning to head out to Spencer's place anyway. It wasn't likely that he or anyone was awake, but if one had to choose between staying in the same room with a TV sensation that's seen his real face, and dealing with a half-asleep artist until she was gone, the choice was obvious. The rain was still hitting strong, so it kind of sucked that he couldn't leave the building.

And his efforts were shown when a great yawn spilled out his throat.

He wasn't going to lie. He slept like an owl at night this time. During the whole experience, he had given away his blanket as well as all of his spare ones without thinking, leaving him shivering in the un-insolated closet as the storm continued brewing over his head. In other words, he didn't get any real wink of sleep. Though, Freddie was pretty sure that even if he was thinking, he still would've done it.

'_Dang, I really _am_ a push-over._' When he shut the door behind him, he was surprised to see that a tall elderly man was already outside in the hall. He had his back faced to him, and it took Freddie a moment to realize that he was waiting on the room across the hall rather than his; Spencer's apartment.

The other person had a business-like look about him. Aside from the suit which was as slick as a newly unwrapped desk-top monitor and the long velvet red tie hanging on his chest, his face held a stern look. It reminded Freddie of those police interrogation movies he used to watch as a kid until his mother confiscated all of them for being too dangerous.

The man turned to him, "yes?"

Freddie backed away a bit. He hadn't realized that he was staring. But hey, it was too late to regret it now if this guy was going to interrogate him to death. So, he shook himself out of his panic and replied. "Uh, no…sorry for staring but, are you waiting for someone?" His arm gestured to Spencer's door.

The firm expression his face held only lightened a smidge. "You seem like a trustful young man, so yes. I've been outside pressing the doorbell for a while now." Freddie listened as he continued, "I'm visiting my grandson. But I believe he's still asleep at this late hour."

"Y-Your grandson?" Freddie couldn't help but find it strange. "…at this _late_ hour?"

"Yes." The man shook his head in shame, "I suppose you've heard of the Shay family, correct? It's embarrassing to know that everyone in this town is too emerged in their personal needs that they can't even bother to wake up at a reasonable time. I love him but still, that doesn't mean my own flesh and blood needs to be that way as well. Now-"

"The door is usually unlocked." Freddie said without thinking.

"Pardon?"

"Spencer likes to keep his door unlocked," he repeated. Stepping around him, he turned the door knob slowly. The pane complied and opened with no trouble. The two stepped in to the dark room, one with hand in pocket and backpack over the shoulder while the other held a tight briefcase securely. Indeed no one else was awake. "…see?"

"I do." Grandpa Shay nodded, though still shocked. "Isn't that a tad irresponsible in case robbers or thieves were to come by? I'm sure that Spencer thinks that won't ever happen and all…"

But Freddie wasn't listening. Instead, the boy contented himself by checking up to see if his Pearpad was still there. It was. He sighed before walking over to a set of four empty 3-legged stands surrounding a sculpture of a camera-squirrel. He unzipped his backpack and carefully brought out his main light, fill light, back light, and forth light, installing them carefully on each specified position. Then, he hooked up the large movie-like camera lying on the table to his laptop, placing both on a black rolling stand. While messing around with the wires protruding from the camera and testing the resulting image on the screen, he didn't notice when the old man had stopped talking to watch him intently.

Freddie couldn't really capture the exact mood Spencer wanted from each piece of art without his direction, but he could always kill time by organizing a few of their already-taken photographs stored in the hard drive. By the time he was off and dragging files here and there and cropping a few specks, the other man in the room had been completely forgotten. That was, until the nerd heard his voice blasting right next to his ear.

"So, what is it that you are making?" Grandpa Shay had recognized many of the pictures on the screen. Spencer was always trying to show his art off in an effort to impress him; it never worked. Freddie's heart beat quickened a bit, but answered without taking his eyes off the monitor.

"A portfolio."

"A portfolio…? You mean like the ones people put together about themselves in order to give to managers?"

"I guess." For some reason, Freddie could feel this conversation taking a turn for the worse. He decided from the beginning to try his best to say as little as possible.

"And this would be Spencer's portfolio." The man stated more than ask. Then, he finally leaned back, Freddie releasing a tiny sigh of relief through his nose. He only held it again when the next question flew his way, "why are you making it?"

"He hired me." His hand moved the mouse in a pattern so that the brush landed exactly on the spot he wanted. Darn it, this guy really _was_ going to interrogate him to death. He peered at the clock on his computer. '_8:10am…when is Spencer going to wake up and get this doof away_?'

"AAARRH!" It seemed his prayers were answered when the goofy artist himself came tumbling down the stairs-literally in a loud crash. He was still dressed in his celebrities underwater pajamas, and had one bunny slipper hanging off his foot as he laid face-down on the floor. The only explanation either could come up with was that he had fallen down in his state of fatigue.

Although a huge weight lifted off his shoulders from having his boss here to help deal with him, Freddie still felt nervous for the rest of the work day. With every new wire or function he adjusted, Spencer's grandfather would comment on why he had chosen to do what he did, forcing him to reply with some advanced rant until he was satisfied. With every new position Spencer gave to his art, Freddie could feel the sting of the old man's eyes watching the both of them. It was like he was judging them the whole time. As it turned out, the two had only gotten a minimal amount of work done at all.

Eventually, Freddie became frustrated. "Spencer."

Spencer was moving the fill light to a different angle.

"Can we please talk?" And it only took a second for the other man to give a curt nod and for the two of them to rush out the door leading out from the kitchen.

When they were both sure they were safe from Grandpa Shay's wrath, Freddie turned to Spencer. He had taken his hood off a while ago, seeing as the heat from the lights were making him sweat and the old man had just come from out of town so wouldn't care much anyway. Spencer looked like a little girl guilty of hording candy from her parents' cupboards. Still, he didn't take too long to answer to his assistant's crossed arms and confusion.

"Look, I'm sorry for all of this, little guy." He waved his arms about, "it's just that Granddad's been bothering me ever since I graduated college. '_Spencer, you would make a fine lawyer!_'" His tongue hung from his bottom lip so a squeaky voice escaped his windpipe. "He just doesn't think being an artist has any real benefits! That's why…"

"That's why you want to make an application portfolio." Freddie finished for him.

Spencer nodded. "I don't have enough skill with the computer or photography in order to do it myself though. If I managed to get just one of my sculptures in a museum, then I'm sure Granddad would leave me alone!"

"But you need help."

"Yeah…"

Freddie cracked half a grin. "Well, you got it right here. You did hire me, after all."

"Really?" Suddenly, the younger of the two felt himself being crushed between two hyperactive arms. "Oh thank you, thank you, thank you!" And forced up and down when Spencer began jumping in excitement.

iCiCiCiCiCiCiCiCiCiC

The next morning greeted her with a blinding shine directed straight in her face and a lingering pain within her stomach. Not to mention her breath smelt horrible. Sam groaned, finding more strength this time around to lift herself onto her elbows. Dang; and she was just getting to her twenty-fifth helping of chocolate in her dream too.

"Sam!" Just as another person had moments before, the addressed felt her body being embraced in a forceful hug by a sugar-high Shay. It was Carly, fully dressed in a new white blouse and jeans. It almost made Sam feel even crappier as her clothes were still half-wet and covered in mud.

"Yes, Carly. I'm alive. Now what's going on?" A throbbing pain sparked in her head, bringing in memories from what happened last night. Just as Carly was prepared to open her mouth to answer, Sam beat her to it. "Crap…I really went overboard this time, didn't I?"

"Yes. Yes you did."

"And I'm really sick right now, aren't I?" She coughed out.

"Yes. Yes you are."

"Oh." She crashed her head back down onto the hard pillow, groaning. "Sorry for worrying you, Carls'. But you know how I get sometimes…"

"Yes. Yes I do."

"…okay, that's _really_ starting to get annoying." She covered her eyes using the crevice on the back of her wrist. Despite her earlier coldness, Carly lifted the covers closer to her chin.

"Here, eat." The girl then gave her friend a bowl of expired bacon. Sam didn't notice it in her hand before. "This was all Jonah had in the fridge right now that seemed edible. I know you can eat anything, but while you're sick isn't such a good idea." She quickly grabbed its contents from her, not minding at all. Did she mention that Carly was the best friend in the world? "…Do you remember anything specific from last night?"

Sam devoured the first piece in 1.2 seconds. "Sort of…some things."

"…like?" Carly wasn't about to let Sam being sick let her escape.

"Well, we ran outside in the middle of the most hardcore storm of the century, made ourselves look like idiots running up eight floors of stairs, and I feel like crap now." Cough, "Happy?"

"Very." The brunette took the plate away, seeing as she had finished it already and was most likely still hungry. Too bad there wasn't much food around here. Sliding it in the sink, Carly plopped herself on the couch adjacent from her, playing with a yo-yo she had in her back pack.

"…hey." Sam finally spoke up after a minute of silence and coughing. "Where are we?"

"Jonah's apartment." Carly replied without interrupting her yo-ing.

"Huh? Why are we in that loon's place?" The girl stopped just as the string moved up, the tip of the yo-yo smacking against her open palm before crashing onto the floor. She didn't seem to notice when her eyes only looked around guiltily.

"…Carly?"

No response.

"Carls'?"

Silence.

"Okay, Carly-" Cough Cough, "w-what did you do?"

More silence. Then:

"I set you up with Jonah!"

If Sam had been drinking anything, she would've done a spit take. And Sam _never_ wasted her food. "WHAT?"

"I'm sorry!" She breathed out and was near hysterics. "You were so sick and we had no where to stay! I couldn't contact anyone to pick us up in this storm so our only option was Jonah's house. But then he said he'll only let us sleep here for the night if he can have a date with you…I'm so sorry!"

"What so you couldn't find some dark corner in the basement for me to curl up in, huh? How about a janitor closet; that would've been just peachy!" Sam yelled back, but let out a large fit of coughs from the strength of her outburst. Carly patted her back, before starting again in a softer voice.

"Be realistic, Sam. You were a lot sicker than you are now, and I'm not sure sleeping in a bed of rat hair and dish-washing detergent would have made it any better."

"Still," she let out a sneeze, "I'm not going on some hot night out with a guy who'll just try to make out with me the whole time."

"Sam…" Feeling more than guilt this time, Carly rested a hand on her shoulder. "You don't know that. Just give him a chance. Remember what we're here for in the first place?"

'_You only know half the story, Carly…_' was what Sam resisted with all her will to say. It took another minute of thought, but she finally made up her mind. Sam sighed and mumbled a fine. Her friend squealed in response, clapping her hands together in excitement. "And I'll help you out with your make-up and hair! We must also go shopping for the perfect outfit-"

"Just one question." Sam interrupted.

"Yes?"

"…anyone else live here besides Jonah?"

"Well," her friend finally stopped. She tapped her chin in deep thought. "Pete was hanging around here too. Neither of them mentioned anyone else." She shook her head, "No, I don't think so."

"Oh." Deep inside her, Sam felt disappointment nipping at the pit of her stomach. "Did they say anything about a friend coming over...or something?"

"No. Why?" By now, Carly was beginning to get suspicious.

"Nah, forget it." Her eyes darted around the room. Had…had she been dreaming the whole time?

"No really. Why?" Carly tucked her yo-yo away in her pocket, inching closer to the sick blonde.

"It's nothing important." Sam coughed once more. No, she wanted to say. It was something important. She didn't know why but it just was. And now she was stuck knowing that she imagined everything in her head. But she would never tell anyone that out loud. Not even Carly. Instead, all she did was tug the covers over her head to avoid her best friend's annoying questions. Suddenly, she stopped.

Her hands fingered at the dirty yet fluffy blanket encasing her, two smaller red and blue ones on top. Her eyes widened, feeling the fabric in her grip once more.

Then, she smiled.

_It was a great day for sailing. The skies were clear and the waves of meatballs beneath her were calm. She remembered plopping one in her mouth, before devouring another handful without hesitation. Man these things were good! Distracted and without warning, a large crash resounded from the bow of her boat. Weakened and crippled, her bacon ship sunk just as another large wave from Meatball Ocean had tilted it over. _

_She was sent tumbling into what felt to be cold, cold, Arctic water in contrast to the warm cooked beef she was expecting._

_It was dark. And she shivered. Her body couldn't move. She shivered again._

_She coughed and shivered some more until an abrupt warmness wrapped itself around her. And finally, she realized that someone had, in panic, thrown a blanket over her limp form. _

iCiCiCiCiCiCiCiCiCiC

**I'm thinking it's a bit long this time, huh? I've written way longer chapters than this for other fanfictions but I told myself already to try keeping the ones for this story considerably shorter. It's just a lot easier to have landmarks closer to each other that way.**

**Nothing else to say really. Except for the fact that I'm losing readers on this thing faster than the box office profit for 'Open Season 2'.**


	5. Piece of Pie

"Would you cut it out?" Sam, was currently standing in the center of her thirty by thirty-one feet bedroom, one of the most uncomfortable expressions the world has seen plastered on her pretty face.

"Sam, as your best friend, I can not let your date not see how amazingly beautiful and awesome you are." Said best friend, a girl named Carly, fiddled with a gold belt, trying to achieve the smallest waist length possible with each wicket. Of course, with her iron stomach and years of experience, Sam was barely feeling a thing. She was starting to have trouble breathing though.

No one here probably cares what she's wearing. But to give you a hint, it was something she would've normally never touched in a million years. It also involved the three s's: sun, skirt, and stripes.

"Yeah, clearly." Sam lifted her arms and brought them back hard against her sides in attempt to rattle the other girl. "I'm sure a hot, rich, blonde 17 year old girl in a very inappropriately showing yellow sun dress would catch anyone's eye."

"You know. I never understood why they called 'em sun dresses. It's not like people only ever wear them in the sun, and they're not the best thing either unless you want a big fat tan line on your throat. Maybe it's symbolic of some kind of-"

"Carly…" Sam made to scratch that annoying powder off her face, but was stopped quite expertly by her friend. Just as the one directed was preparing to launch into a lecture about make-up and the importance of leaving it untouched, the doorbell rang. And trust me, Sam never thought she would be so happy to see a boy in her life.

The two girls simultaneously looked at each other, out the door, once more at each other, before dashing out of the room in a hurry. Though for two completely different reasons.

What met them at the front entrance was the boy they were waiting for surrounded by an array of professional yet noisy servants chattering away at the same time.

Sam groaned. Carly let out a sheepish smile.

"Tell me, boy. Are you and Ms. Puckett really going on a date tonight?"

"Now Peter, don't scare him. Now young man, are you planning anything suspicious with our little Sammy?"

"What's your name?"

"Oh what a hypocrite. And you tell _me_ not to scare him."

"Please, I was asking an honest question. Don't deny that you weren't thinking the same thing."

"Would you like a taste of our very best French toast?"

"There is a difference between thinking things and letting them slip into our nervous systems unprofessionally and having those words taint our mouths, Ms. Cluttermouth."

"Hey!" Sam made herself known by the end of the staircase, instantly silencing every curious servant on the floor. "What the chizz are all of you doing? Mama's going to be back before midnight and I expect a full-course meal and entourage ready by then, so get moving!"

At this, an effective dozen pairs of eyes widened, a shuffling dozen pairs of footsteps made, and a dozen whispers of apologies, before the whole room was once again empty. It was never easy to feed Sam Puckett after a night out, good or bad date aside.

"Wow, nice going Sam." Yeah right. In all honesty Jonah seemed pleasantly pleased at the attention to her, despite the sincere smile blooming on his face. Just when Sam was going to say that out loud however, she noticed that the room wasn't quite as empty as she thought it was.

One figure stayed, the man who had been keeping silent the whole time. He stayed mute when he made his way over to his mistress, handed her a neatly-folded note, and followed the others into the kitchen. Never one to stall, Sam ripped it open and hastily read it.

_You have declined any male we have offered for a while, Samantha. Please show this young man around the mansion and I will be informed by my grand-daughter whether you have done so._

_- Grandpa Shay_

Crap. Carly never was a good liar to strangers, and Sam knew in a heartbeat that that scale dropped down a couple hundred notches when dealing with family members. Then again, maybe she could hide the message and tell Carls' that it was just a reminder to return her Girly Cow DVD's?

"Sorry." Seeing Carly's all-knowing and clearly informed face, she knew that plan went out the window as soon as it came.

From Jonah's point of view, all he saw next was a very cute lady crashing her head against the railing several times and whispering 'why?'

iCiCiCiCiC

"And this is Carly's bedroom and yadda yadda fat cakes-on-a-tricycle yadda." For the umpteenth time, Sam was elbowed in the ribs by her friend.

"What about this room?" Jonah gestured his head to the door next to them. One which clearly read 'Sam's Room: Keep Out' in giant bold letters.

"You can read, can't you? Or are you blind?" Elbow.

"Aren't you going to show me inside? I bet it's awesome."

"Just give it up buddy. The only ones allowed in _my_ room are me, Carly, or a highly-experienced servant under severe supervision and a dog leash."

"Sam…" Carly began, giving the demon the look. One of those looks that always made you feel that small guilty spot in the corner of your stomach which slowly rose into your esophagus, lungs, brain, and eventually your entire soul until you give in to her whims. Of course, after another blank stare from Sam, the three were soon in the large room.

"Wow. I've never seen such a huge bedroom!" Jonah had a grin which rivaled; his wiggling eyebrow not going unnoticed by the blonde whenever it landed on a discarded bra or piece of lingerie.

Sam crossed her arms and shook uncomfortably. "Can we leave now?"

"What's wrong with you?" Carly eyed her.

"Look, can you look over Mr. Enthusiastic over there?" Sam whispered to the brunette. "I need to go."

"But you just we-"

"Now." Her voice lowered several tones, leaving Carly to simply nod and let her leave. It wasn't until the 'click' of the door was heard that Jonah finally turned around from admiring the scenery and noticed the missing member.

"Where's she headed?"

"Oh, just the bathroom." Jonah nodded, focusing his attention back to Sam's many decorated shelves and sprinting over to them. In his rotten living condition, he had honestly never seen so much jewelry in his entire life! It was strange, since Sam never struck him as the type to admire shiny crystals and shimmering gems. Guess a girl can't resist her bling, huh? After taking himself from the rare alloy of topazes to the translucent samples of diamond, something caught his eye. Something that stood out against the rest of the expensive products and neatly-carved accessories. It looked like a piece of paper.

Its dull crevices were strangely molded out, and the plain white dusty and appeared to be scribbled on. Yet, it was in the shape of a ring. One which was preserved despite its obvious flaw. By now, Carly was behind Jonah's shoulder, looking at the object in curiosity when he slowly lifted it up to observe it. However, it was only him who noticed the faint sketchy words imprinted across it.

_Pear Industr_

Industr? What the heck was an Industr? He could only guess that the writer meant 'Pear Industries' but had run out of room, as the 'r' quickly crossed over against the 'P' and were too difficult to erase and start again. Better question was, why would she have something like this? Wasn't Pear Industries a company that made-

"Just WHAT are YOU DOING?" Quick as ever, the ring was snatched away from him, by none other than a fuming Sam.

"S-Sam! I swear he didn't do anyth-"

"Oh cut it Shay! It's not you I'm mad at right now." Her gaze flickered to a worried Carly, and for the first time ever, a not-smiling Jonah. The three stayed rooted to the ground as Sam hastily placed the ring into her purse, checking it for any rips or tears before glancing back at them. This continued on for a good five minutes.

A thousand worst-case scenarios playing themselves in the mind of Carly Shay over and over. Great, just when she finally got Sam a date too, the boy would be lucky to leave this house alive by the looks of it.

On contrary, Sam simply turned around and uttered the words, "Jonah, you coming or not?" before leaving the room. The boy didn't waste any time in following her, both forgetting about the very shocked Carly standing in the doorway.

iCiCiCiCiC

"I'm hungry." Sam followed stiffly behind him, her steps never in sync with the teen. It was always her walking faster than him, then hesitantly slowing them in order to keep from having to see that annoying smile on his face. Of course, Jonah had insisted on covering her eyes in a blindfold so it would be a surprise or something, but you could all guess how that worked out.

Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea though. It would've kept her from seeing all the suspicious stares of people around them. Apparently wearing a sun dress wasn't enough to keep people from suspecting who she was.

"We're almost there." He made a gesture to take her arm, but she slowed her pace, effortlessly dodging his waiting hand. "Just around the corner."

It would be the most agonizing corner of her life, she decided. Sam continued to stay in this state of mind until it passed, and she found herself staring at the largest, brightest, and most wonderful place she had ever seen. "Mr. Galini's Pie Shop"

"W-Whoa! I've heard of these before!" Instantly forgetting her bitter mood, Sam rushed to the windows of the restaurant, gazing at the many taunting flavors before her. "This guy is world known, man! I've been wanting to try their pies forever but the dude only has, like, a hundred shops in the whole country. Who would've thought there'd be one in Seattle?" As if her date didn't exist anymore, she rushed in.

Jonah followed the excited girl, taking a seat across from her with yet another half-cocky grin. He knew she would like this place; _everyone _did. And pies? Come on; Sam would be rushing to his door soon enough.

"And what would you like, you two?" Good. Sam hated restaurants which were too formal.

"I'll have the coconut cream, triple chocolate fudge, original blueberry, and apple squeeze with extra sugar…oh! And don't forget to get Mama some whipped cream. Pie is so empty without whipped cream." The waiter swiftly jotted each down, his blank face never changing. His eyes turned to the boy next to him.

"Get me a mixed fruit…" the man started writing, "…_10_ slices." He lifted his eyes, but added a messy '10'. "Thank you mister and miss. Your orders will be here shortly."

And thus, the waiting began. Complete with Sam's impatient tapping, Jonah's soft humming, and the noisy yells of kids around them.

"So…how've you been, Sam?"

Sam narrowed her eyes, "don't you start with me, Jonah."

"It's about the ring, isn't it?"

"No."

"Really, now?" Jonah tapped his chin, still perfectly calm. "Mind telling me what's going on with it?"

"Yes."

She just continued staring expressionless at him, until he eventually shrugged and muttered a "whatev's" so only both of them could hear. Almost instantly, Jonah returned to his non-caring persona and quietly leaned his back up to the chair with his hands behind his head.

…

"Don't tell anyone."

"What's that?" He looked up.

"I said, 'don't tell anyone'. You deaf too?"

To her surprise, he only grinned. "I don't blame you. Someone famous like you carrying around something like that could make people think things."

"What do you mean '_something like tha-_"

"Excuse me, young lady." The two turned to see a man at their table, basically your everyday middle-aged man if it wasn't for the large camera hanging off of his neck. He adjusted his collar, though not in a way of nervousness, but more to give off an aura of authority. It wasn't until he pulled out his card that Sam's body froze.

"I am a news reporter and photographer for Seattle Daily, and I have noticed that you quite resemble a young girl of whom I've wanted to interview for quite a while now." It was then that his eyes trailed to Jonah. "Oh, are you with someone? I'm terribly sorry for interrupting but…" He squinted his eyes on Sam.

"I must say you look exactly like iCarly's Sa-"

"Here's your food, Sir." The waiter brought over a large platter of a pie cut into ten pieces. Without hesitation, Jonah took the plate and threw it at the reporter's face, fruit juices and syrup splattering every which way.

"RUN!" And for the first time in her life, Sam let someone boss her around.

The two scrambled out of the joint, side-by-side as they heard distinct sounds of the oh-so-collected waiter from before yelling obscenities in the distance. It wasn't until they were a good eight blocks away that they finally stopped to catch their breaths.

Sam leaned against the side of a build-a-bra shop, the squeals of many women inside projecting from the open windows. Jonah was next to her, letting out snorts of laughter in between lost breaths. And he wasn't alone, as the girl next to him erupted into even louder snickers which soon developed into an all-out laughing fit. "Dude, did you see the way that pie totally splattered him?"

"I was about to throw my brother's old cell phone at him, but pie works too." His laughter finally died down. "Great, and he doesn't know what to do with it either."

"Wow, then that guy got lucky." Sam grinned. "A cell phone would've hurt a lot more."

"But…sucks how we'll probably never be allowed back there." Jonah scratched the back of his head as if he just realized this fact.

"Eh, don't worry about it." She shrugged it off. By now, the squeals still hadn't died down in the night air. You can never underestimate the joys women get at customizing their own bras. "Soon as they find out who they banned, they'll lift it off easy as pie. Pun definitely intended." One of her thumbs pointed proudly to herself, a daring look coming across her eyes.

Jonah stared at her for a moment, strangely quiet. Then, he shook his head and lifted a finger.

"One minute." Then, he disappeared into the doors of a store across the street.

This was it. This was the chance she had been waiting for up until now. The chance to finally ditch the loser, get back home, yet be able to say that she kept her end of the deal as they had technically gone on a date. That had been the plan ever since that morning of the storm and Carly had told her the 'great' news.

But, she stayed put.

Until the jingling of bells was heard. Until the boy in question ran back to her, holding out a gold-colored hat and beige glasses. Until Sam was sure that she had gone nuts.

"What are those for?" Despite her undeniable state of insanity, she could still talk.

"To keep people from recognizing you." He stated simply.

"And what makes you think I don't have a thousand hats and glasses at home and would just use those?"

"'Cuz these are from me." How cocky could this guy get?

"We just met like, a week ago, Romeo." She snapped at him, but still felt a smile playing on her lips.

"Well, still better than that paper thing you keep worrying over."

Sam's mouth dropped. "I told you. It's not-"

"And don't Romeo and Juliet kiss after knowing each other for all of 5 seconds?"

"Eh, never saw the mov-" She stopped when he stepped closer to her, the grin which had seemingly been present since birth growing ever so slightly. Her eyes snapped back to him, surprise written on her face yet that small spark of readiness to pounce on him if he were to try anything still present.

When he bent down, however, she didn't move. Okay, so he's freakishly close to her face. That doesn't mean anything! It wouldn't matter if she let him just stand there, inches away from her like that. It wasn't like she really wanted to pull away. But if he were to steal her kiss, then some blood is going to be-

Huh?

Sam gently touched the spot on her cheek. That was it?

So maybe he wasn't that much of a perverted jerk as she had thought. It was actually kind of…sweet. Wasn't she supposed to be smiling and bursting with joy right now? Or at least overloaded with dark thoughts of his slow and painful murder? No, not really. She just felt weird. But whatever expression she portrayed must have went unnoticed by the boy who had done it. Especially since his brown eyes were staring right into her's now.

No matter how she looked at them, she sort of wished they were darker.

And deeper.

…when did she get so cheesy?

She never considered herself a romantic. And hoping for things that won't ever happen was stupid. Let alone if you don't really even know what those things are. So, as Jonah tightened his arms around her in an embrace, Sam didn't let go.

"Tomorrow night at 8?"

"Sure."

iCiCiCiCiC

The first thing that greeted Jonah when he opened the door to his apartment was a prompt punch in the face, sending his body back five feet.

"What the HELL, man?" The one waiting behind the entrance yelled, fist still high in the air.

Jonah straightened his posture, the small bruise on his cheek the only indication that its grinning face had changed at all. "Whoa, calm down there, little brother."

"What's with you?" The boy took a step forward, "I know where you were just now! I saw you hugging her right in front of this building, like you were trying to rub it in my face or something!"

"Rub what in your face?" Jonah took his hand off the growing swell on his cheek as he stepped into their home, closing the door behind him. His feet began walking to the kitchen, the other hot on his trails.

"Just stop lying, won't you? You knew I was this close, _this close_," he showed two of his fingers, only about a centimeter away from touching, "…from getting her to go on a date with me. And you ruined it!"

"No, I was just smarter than you." Jonah shrugged, "besides, she was never into you. And you should be glad I'm not pummeling you right back, bro. With that broken arm of yours, I think you've had enough punishment from us." He peered in the fridge and poured himself a glass of root beer.

"And what do you mean by that?"

"Your arm," Jonah pointed a finger towards the sweaty sling. "You never did find out who did it, did you?"

"No." A distant look came on him. "The principle said that the guy had rigged the camera a few seconds before so it would stop recording and…what does this have to do with anything?"

"Oh man," it appeared that Jonah was close to bursting out in snickers from his brother's stupidity. "I wouldn't expect any less from _Sam_."

iCiCiCiCiC

"Hey."

Freddie peered at the scene before him, long sheets of white and pastel blue greeting him once more. It was annoying, made him feel uncomfortable, and downright boring to his senses. And what was even more aggravating was that it was always the same each time he came back. He grabbed a chair from the side of the room and took a seat beside the figure so he could see more clearly past his dark rimmed glasses. Yup, always the same.

No change. No sign. Nothing.

Despite the long episode of disappointment crossing him each time, there was always an aftertaste of relief that came with it. He had long ago stopped caring for what he thought of him, but what would he think of himself whenever he came to? It was a big change to wake up in what was practically, another universe with no idea what's going on. It would be an even bigger change to have to accompany said person through this new place.

"How have you been doing? Like I promised, I came this month too. Me? I've just been around, but I finally got a job. My boss' name is Spencer, and he's an awesome guy."

Freddie took a breath, rambling on.

"You won't believe what kind of artwork he does though. My favorite by far is that giant Skybucks coffee cup slash swimming pool he made. You should see it. It's almost as tall as his condo! He says he keeps it in the bathroom in case of emergencies, whatever that means. And my tech-skills have made it look even more amazing in digital." Finally stopping, he zipped his school bag open and pulled out a thick notebook, one which looked at least a decade old.

The boy took a moment to stare at the first couple of pages, a collection of several designs for the first Pearpad. It was like someone had filled a quarter of them, before throwing the book away only for someone else to hastily continue their work where they left off. He zoomed past the second half of slightly lower-quality drawings, finally stopping on the last page which showed diagrams of many varying angles of a chip. A messy dance of codes was sprawled under it.

"You're probably wondering what this is," Freddie cocked an eyebrow while holding the page up for the figure to see. "Lately I've been designing a program called 'Mood App'. Once I'm finished with it, it will be able to detect from over five hundred emotions what a person is feeling at that moment just by scanning their face. This chip is going to be the master copy."

"I should have it done in three months, maybe around my birthday in February." No response, but Freddie kept talking. "You know, it'd be cool if you woke up on that day. That way I wouldn't have to go through that whole frantic phone call thing you see in dramas since I'd be here anyway…"

The room went silent again, the only exception being the periodic beep of the machine beside him. He still had a good half an hour or so to sit in here before the nurses would shoo him out, and he had pretty much run out of things to say. So, he settled for staring at the figure's face, willing it to awake, move, shoot mustard out of its eyes, anything interesting.

Then, the door clicked open.

A frail-looking woman on a wheelchair slowly pushed herself into the room, half-muttering curses and the other half just wanting to get some sleep. The end of the wheel banged against the door once more, before she threw her hands up in exasperation and finally noticed Freddie's questioning gaze across the room. '_What is she doing here?_'

"Um, are you going to helping me? I'm new at carrying around a giant metal death trap everywhere I go." She huffed. Without wasting a second, Freddie stood up, squeezed his way through the room and past the entranceway and pushed the wheelchair away from the door. When he was done, he stood awkwardly beside her, deciding to await her next move before he did anything.

To his surprise, she brought out a torn, worn-out, and seemingly squashed bouquet of flowers from inside her duffle bag and placed them on the bed by the figure's right arm. It wasn't until then that Freddie finally got a good look at her face. He didn't know how or why, but this woman seemed…familiar. In contrast, as if he didn't exist, she muttered out a 'hope you wake up soon' before finally turning her neck to face the boy. "Well, and what are you doing here?"

"Oh." His eyes then widened, "oh! Um, yeah. He's just…a friend of mine."

"Aren't you supposed to be in school right now?"

"My first class doesn't start for another 41 minutes." She rolled her eyes while Freddie stuffed the closed book back into his bag.

"Well lucky you," the woman started, flicking a stray strand of hair away from her eyes. "I'm not allowed to leave. It's always 'do this' or 'stay in bed' or 'eat this meal'. Gets really aggravating once the nurses try to force unrefined Surimi down your throat. I mean, what is that?"

"It's a fish-based food made up of roughly 75% water invented in the 1960's by Japanese cultures meant to imitate the texture, look, and taste of crabs and shellfish. It is commonly used to produce low-cost meals and-"

"Alright alright, I get it." She waved a hand in the air, "you reading off a dictionary page or something?" Freddie looked down at his feet, mentally hitting himself for going on another one of his famous nerdy tangents. "But…you seem like an interesting if not in need of some serious acne-treatment kid. What's your name again?"

His head shot up; she actually wants to know his name? Then again, something in his gut was yelling at him that telling her would be a bad idea. The way this lady just seemed so familiar had been itching his nerves since she first started talking to him. "Uh…I'm Frank Bentley. N-Nice to meet you." Freddie stuck out his hand.

She didn't take it. "Sorry, not the formal kind." Then, she wheeled her chair away from him and closer to the doorway of the room, fixing the crevices of the bouquet so it didn't look quiet as messed up before doing so. Freddie sighed and picked his bag up from the floor. He didn't bother asking the woman for her name, barely anyone ever gave it to him anyways…

"AIDs."

"Huh?"

"AIDS. You ever heard of them?" By now, her wheelchair was facing away from him, so Freddie couldn't see her face. He opened his mouth, but was stopped by her hand in the air once more. "What am I saying? Of course you have! No need to give me its life history, boy." Freddie closed his mouth. "I just got admitted here for having them."

"Huh?"

"I went a little crazy while back. And this man here," she gestured to the motionless body, "getting himself into a coma didn't help things."

"H-Huh?" He knew it wasn't a good idea to talk to this lady.

"Never mind you. I just…" she sighed. "Needed to get that out, is all. Even if it's to some random kid who probably doesn't care. I guess I have a habit of doing that." With that, she made her final track to the door and opened it, not bothering to ask him for help this time.

Freddie finally unfroze himself from his moment of confusion, managing a yell of "good luck" just before the door closed. He stood there, silently looking at the spot where she was.

'_She has…I, him and…_' his thoughts trailed. It was then he realized that he now had 13 minutes until school started. Without any proper time to think over it, Freddie slung the bag back on his shoulders and quickly apologized to the sleeping figure before rushing past the bed.

But not before taking the moment to peer over his shoulder and whisper.

"Bye, dad. I'll see you on December 4th."

iCiCiCiCiC

Sounds of machine sliding against machine rung. Soon, it spat out a white page with a dark black rectangle imprinted on it. After several minutes of dunking the paper into a vat of water, the sheet was taken out, and the colors slowly exposed themselves in the dark room. An outline of two bodies embraced in each other's arms could soon be made out.

"Finally…"

iCiCiCiCiC

**Ugh, sorry for having so much Sam/Jonah in this chapter. But, it had to be done.**

**Yeah, I know it's been a while since the last update. I've been spending the time that I've been absent basically sketching the outline of this story in point-form all the way until the end. Literally, I sat down in front of the TV at low volume and spent two to four hours every other day doing it. So far, I've only planned up to chapter 10 (plus all of Freddie's past) with that. **

**But I guess you guys can at least be expecting better updates. ****This will probably the most boring chapter in the whole story.**


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